Preface

This novel is a sequel to my earlier novel, The Transfer (TT; 1997, revised in 2010). In this novel, Bridge Four (B4), I have tried to reprise key elements from TT, when and where it is appropriate, so that B4 can be read on its own. Note, however, that as with any sequel, you will still likely get more from B4 if you have recently (re-)read TT.

This story carries forward the three primary timelines shown in TT: the main, most familiar line (dubbed "alpha" / α here in B4), set about seven years after Breakaway; a second, distinct timeline (dubbed here as "omicron" / ο), set close to its Breakaway; and a third, forked timeline (dubbed "omega" / Ω back in TT) set almost fourteen years after Breakaway.

Events were followed in those three timelines in TT. Here in B4, we resume those timelines. It is, however, important to note that while the alpha-line is picked up shortly after the end of TT, the omicron-line is picked up a few hours before the end of its action in TT, from a different point of view, and the omega-line is picked up days before the end of its action in TT, from the viewpoint of the omega-line Alphans.

Some other timelines suggested in TT are explored here in B4, sometimes at different points in time. They will be "named" along the way. Unlike TT, each scene will have listed the timeline it involves, as a Greek letter in the scene title line.

Update (R-07/08/10): There is now a page listing the timelines which have some point of view, however briefly by a character, in this part of B4. Also (part of the Update), each time a Greek letter is listed in a scene title, it will also be a link to the reference page.

I hope you enjoy this story! As always, comments, questions, etc., are welcome at d44welle'at'itol'dot'com (with the usual translation and removing the 44).

α |||| S-2540 DAB: Home

Tony's head seemed to spin. He looked around, seeing the three hundred or so of them, walking from the Space Centre, to nearby flats. Temporary housing. On Earth. They had returned.

An Eagle launched from a nearby pad.

Green trees stood on the compound, fresh air, atmosphere.

Sounds of joy. Alphans looking around, smiles on their faces. A baby giggling and reaching for a leaf that brushed near him, across his father's arm.

A girl trying to run towards a guard dog -- one that was staring at Tony, or rather....

Tony turned to his right. Maya. She had a stilted smile, looking around in wonderment -- and nervousness. She saw the dog, the guard, the laser rifle. The guard's stare. Tony glared at him, and the man at least finally had the courtesy to make his observation slightly less obvious. There were ways of keeping an eye on someone without completely unnerving the subject, after all.

Not that Maya deserved any of that. Tony bristled. This was already spoiling the homecoming. Of course, it was not a homecoming for the Psychon, who had never stepped foot on Earth in her life, or even heard of it before six years ago.

Here it was, Earth of 2006. What sort of place would this be for her?

He looked up, towards some hills, not recognizing the area, or even which country the uniforms were from.

In the flats, he and Maya were given separate rooms. Was that right?

Two guards were posted outside her room. No one else was getting that much scrutiny, with only one guard per floor otherwise. An Alphan baby cried. Were they really Alphans any more?

His body begged for sleep, like it had been a rough arrival somehow.

Days flashed by. De-briefings, often alone with the interviewer, sometimes with some or all of the officer corps, sometimes with members of Security Section. Sometimes just with Maya and the interviewer.

Maya coming back looking more and more wearied from the ones she was alone with non-Alphans. Were they interrogating her? How dare they. Then he remembered with a guilty start that he himself had wanted to interrogate her on first arrival to Alpha. Did he feel guilty about that, or guilty for not understanding other Terrans' suspicions, or guilty on the behalf of all humans for their suspicion?

Then the Alphans are being moved, to new, larger flats, further away from Space Centre. Walking. It all seemed odd. Another large crowd, a mix of Alphans and non-Alphans. A bunch of non-Alphans with microphones and voice recorders ran into the crowd, asking questions. They got a little pushy. Someone in a hooded sweatshirt was separated and led away, quickly.

Then to a very nice flat, but where was Maya? He started looking, then looking more, then asking everyone. No Maya. The guards didn't know. Demands to see the supervisor, brushed off initially. Then finally they talk, only there's no information. "Where's Maya?" he demands. No answer.

John steps in, making the same demand. A blank stare. Was she the one in the hooded sweatshirt earlier, being led for further interrogation -- or worse?

Almost all of the Alphans step out of the building, to start a search. Search of what? He looked around, not even sure what city this was. It seemed like a capital city.

Hills, different hills, familiar hills. One of the Seven Hills, then another, and a third. He focused on Palatine Hill. Weren't there supposed to be ruins on it? There were just trees, lots of them. Rome, the same, but different.

Into a ristorante. No Maya. A cinema. No Maya. Why was he searching such places? He looked around, confused, back to the hill. Now there were only a handful of trees.

Where was everyone? He, John, Helena, Alan, Sandra, Victor, the Frasers, Kate, Janina, and other mutual friends were all that was left. How could everyone else give up so quickly, forget their community member? Community breaking down, already, separating, scattering.

He could scarcely imagine how alone and scared Maya must be. Or was she roaming the skies, a metamorph, searching for her friends?

Now he was flying, up in the sky, angling around, looking, then coming in for a landing. He couldn't even be sure if it was hang glider, jet pack, open-cockpit plane, or what. Or maybe his own wings -- he dared not look. Flying dreams. More common since meeting Maya. She got to fly all the time, for real, a person whose flying dreams were reality. Tony could only dream from afar. Or had it been from close?

A few Alphans there, talking to government officials. Tony stepped right up. "Where is Maya? Where is my wife?" Did he mean that for real? Had he identified himself as her husband on arrival? Alien wife of a citizen -- a new spin on the "alien" part. Had they forgotten? Or had he forgotten? Was it just for her protection, or for real?

"We don't know your wife, this Maya," one official stated. Huge white "mushrooms" lay around the official. Were they on hallucinogens, to think she was a danger, or to simply forget her arrival?

Tony, exasperated, rolled his eyes, and noticed the same hill again. Five giant metal structures, each like the letter 'H' but narrower on the bottom than the top, vaguely like electrical line towers, but of immense scale. What were they doing on the hill?

More fruitless looking, thinking he was hearing her voice now and then. Looking for auburn hair in crowds. The faces turning his way. Wrong eyebrows. Not her pretty blue eyes. Not her beautiful face. So many slim-but-shapely bodies, but none hers.

He looked up at the hill again. A giant domed tower. It was a city in its own right. No trees. No grass. No flats. No ancient ruins of Rome. No familiar buildings of Rome. The Seven Hills, each with a city dome squatting on it. Mega-Roma, 2120.

They had seen Maya. Or had they? On the screen on Alpha -- or maybe not. That successful rescue by Texas City. Right? They had scarcely reacted, as if knowing space had aliens. Maybe down here, Maya had just gotten lost, separated. Some lost human population in the years before the domed cities, environmental degradation. Poor Maya, on dead or dying worlds, now lost among what was still billions. No last name to search for her. Or was it Verdeschi? He looked for a commpost, but there were none out in the wilderness, and it was starting to get harder to breathe -- he was starting to gasp.

No more Alphans. Everyone had returned home. Even he was home too, in a way, as different as it was. Yet without Maya, was it a home? Two people, lost and separated on a planet neither really knew. Homeless. Alone.

He looked back up to Palatine Hill. The structures were different. Not 2006, nor 2120. What--?

Tony jerked awake, pulling himself up so quickly a cramp started in his left leg, an exaggerated twinge of his Breakaway wound. He immediately started stretching it, but stuck in bed while trying to loosen it, the imagery soon swarmed back into his head. Long, vivid, intense.

What the--

Maya had long been showing up in his dreams -- nearly from the first night if not right on it. From a surreal tableau including her and Mentor in Command Center with a miniature Psychon ship buzzing around, through one of him trying to land a punch on Mentor and, much to his guilt, landing one on Maya's face, to happier dreams, and some increasingly more vivid in a very pleasant way (his hopes?), now to this.

He reached, gingerly, for his commlock, and turned the lights up. Alpha, of course. Had he expected otherwise? His leg protested again, so he stretched it again, pulling his toes towards him, the right arm of his blue pyjamas brushing momentarily on the right leg of his pyjamas.

Suddenly, with a guilty start, he fully understood her trepidation about an Earth "return." Oh, he had known she would feel all the more alien, all over again, and she had done a lot to hide her own feelings in understanding her friends wanted to get back home -- but still.... He had been dismissive, thinking it would be fine, or even failing to notice her feelings, like after Texas City had made contact. Maybe it had been an unconscious attempt to show her he was confident things would be okay, but that sort of bravado didn't always impress women. Sometimes, but not always. Confident, comforting words counted too, and the comforting had not always been there. Sometimes, but sometimes not, and perhaps not when it counted the most.

The three-hundred here had not always been the kindest to her, and Tony had started as one of the most suspicious. Three-hundred compared to billions. Maybe she did fear being lost, or Alphans dispersing, leaving her alone or nearly so, on a planet teeming with people.

How could he have been so insensitive? Not totally, but enough. In his dream, he had felt intensely her being lost from him. How intensely she might feel lost on Earth? It had hit him harder than before. Now he really, truly understood why she was more willing than any Alphan to call Moonbase "home" -- it was all she knew now. Her planet was gone, her people at best scattered far out of her reach and in some cases like Dorzak, beyond her respect, or at worst completely gone. She had sometimes started referring to herself as the last of her kind. So much so he had even echoed it, and rather crassly at that. Maybe he had even reinforced her feelings of isolation.

How she could go through life looking so cheerful, yet clearly suffering so many feelings of losses? Her spirit, the supportive friendship of others, an innate happiness to Psychons that most others had lost during their struggle -- it was all that, and more. She was strong, but needed people, just like anyone he knew.

His wife? Even the dream imagery was not clear whether he had married her just before return in a futile attempt to protect her, were married for real love, or he had just made that up on the spot in his dream.

Suddenly, he felt terrible. Why was there any question? Why was it so hard to see her as his wife, he as her husband?

Yet it wasn't in many ways. He was just a clumsy oaf about relationships at times -- all his life. Yet Maya had something none of his ex-girlfriends had: enormous patience for him, and a sense of humour that had not faded. One of his sisters had joked -- or perhaps not joked -- that it would take a woman with patience and humour to live with him.

Patience for a fool, or was it a clown? He had found such a woman in the most unexpected of places, far from Earth, from a world which no longer even existed.

Why was he waiting? Why had he waited for so long? It wasn't even that she was an alien, just that she was a woman, and commitment was a big step. Or was it that she was an alien, just a little bit about that?

He scarcely even thought of her as alien any more. Not that he forgot, but it just rarely mattered, or mattered in a way he found fascinating. Another example was how he thought she was simply beautiful. It had been a long time since modifiers were present in those thoughts. Not 'attractive for an alien' or 'beautiful in an exotic way' or other such variations. She was just plain gorgeous. Funny, intelligent, patient, kind, yet strong, and spirited. What more could he ask for? What more was he waiting for?

Problem was, they had not often talked really deeply. In some ways, they had started a long time ago; but in too many ways, they had finally started to talk more deeply the last few months. Her confiding about her confusion over Mentor, over Dorzak. The pain that Mentor had killed Alphans and turned one into a 'living husk' -- a horror to her. That the Dorcons, hunting to turn her into a living husk, had killed Alphans.

Some of the topics, like these, had been difficult, some had been easier and more pleasant. Yet in general, how hard was it to talk to her, with her, to listen? In the end, it never had been, but he had made it more difficult to talk more deeply. He had even pushed her away at times.

He cringed again at how he had professed his love -- which was true -- only to get cold feet and flop on it. Stupid. He had kicked himself often after that, had worked at undoing the damage, had gotten further than before, but still not far enough. As if to reinforce his mental cringe, his calf muscle, which he was slowly loosening, partially tightened again.

He thought of Mama, Papa, Guido, his sisters. It was like a lifetime ago. It was many lifetimes ago. No one liked to estimate the time dilation, but years ago on Alpha had already been 2120 on Earth. Yet he was still in 2006 by Alphan time, and suddenly felt like he could have written so much about life here to them, about his friends, their adventures, losses -- and gains. His gain. A steady, patient friend with a sense of humour. More than a friend. More than a best friend. His best girlfriend ever. That didn't seem enough any more.

Had he ever written Maya a love poem? Lena was right, so many years before. He really could be a clown, and a fool.

The pain in his calf was fading, but already half forgotten, for he felt clobbered over the head by a 2x4 of his own making. What a fool he had been. Hurting her when he really didn't want to, when he really loved her, and wanted to love her more. Wasting time. So much wasted time, when he could have been getting to know her even better, as her husband.

Now it seemed, at least according to Helena's estimates of aging during the various recent jaunts through times and timelines by many Alphans, mostly unremembered, that he had lost five months, forgotten, away from Alpha, and from Maya as she too was lost for awhile in space and time, even managing to see Earth with her own eyes, from an alternate Moon. He had no idea where he had gone, and estimates of when were 4000-4400 years into some timeline's future. Five less months left in his lifespan, that he could have spent with Maya, if none of this had happened.

Suddenly, it couldn't have been any more clear. He would have to ask. He wanted to ask. He was going to ask. Why hadn't he asked already?

Suddenly, pain turned to joy.

He had awoken with a painful cramp originating from the twinges of a wound suffered while the Moon broke away from Earth, and now he was feeling joy about deciding he wanted to marry a woman who came from another planet in another galaxy, and marrying her on this crazy, runaway Moon. It had been a journey, but this part did not seem the least bit strange.

Suddenly, he realized he didn't want to return to Earth. He still missed his family, but he was out here, somewhere, sometime, and suddenly, as long as "here" was with Maya and that she was safe, and with him, was what counted. That place, wherever it was, would be home -- or he would find a way to make it home.

That only left the question. The question of how to ask the question.

Somehow, it just had to be very special, to erase all the delays, the stupid words, and the lack of words. Erase some of her loneliness, her fears that she never quite fit in, or that she could be abandoned, whether in person or with stupid retractions. Make it clear he wanted her wholeheartedly, alien or not, children or not, that it didn't matter.

He wanted to make it special because she was special, and deserved special.

First, though, they needed to talk more.

α |||| T-2542 DAB: Alphabeta Soup

Communications Officer Sandra Benes shook her head and sat back, leaning away from the desk in her quarters. She was clad in her pyjamas, feeling alone and still a little confused, but shaking away one of the causes for now. She wanted to remain focused on what she had been typing, only for her thoughts to turn more general regarding the recent Alphan experiences. Losing herself in recording the details for so many hours today, on duty and now off duty, had blinded her somewhat to just how strange it all was.

Though many people had time-traveled in the last few weeks, still for no known reason, few remembered where or when they may have gone. Yet the few who did, had startling stories indeed.

She had her own story, and if anything, it was even more bizarre. Hundreds of copies of herself, all from the same day in time (2518 DAB -- August 5, 2006), on a hybrid and virtually metamorphic moonbase. It had been dubbed two different ways, as the Confluence, or the Collision. Some added "of Sandras" to either -- but she preferred either of the simpler names over having her own name in the reference.

More of it had started coming back to her. She had returned with full knowledge of where she had been, but had almost completely set it aside when she realized she was the person with highest authority on base at the time. When it appeared people were simply re-appearing and that no one had any idea how to accelerate that, she had settled in to tracking people's returns, trying to gather what they recall -- which was virtually nothing. Still, she ran interviews, and continued doing so after Paul returned and she relinquished temporary command to him.

After everyone had returned, she realized her own memories of the Collision -- she was starting to prefer the term Confluence instead -- were starting to fade. Since then, she had been trying to recall as much as she could. Fortunately, it was returning, albeit in pieces and chunks rather than wholes.

Away from the Confluence, one of the coherent realities had virtually dubbed itself. Omega, the Commander had said. Ω -- graffiti on a wall in that base, as a sad and in some ways accurate assessment of the dying state of that version of Moonbase Alpha. She had been informed that the Commander suspected a slightly different sequence of events at Psychon had triggered a different lunar path out of that system, which in turn had likely pointed it at the Alk^inharda Rapids rather than the Alk^inharda Bridge, to a more ruinous series of encounters, especially years later. Cmdr. John Koenig and Dr. Helena Russell had ended up there first, then followed by Capt. Alan Carter and Science Officer Maya, and finally by First Officer Tony Verdeschi. That base had lost its Helena and Tony years before. Its Sandra had been killed, along with Alan, Kano, Ben, Reilly, others. John and Maya had apparently drawn together. Then Tony and Helena had been found on a world -- dubbed Haven -- the 116 survivors were settling. Everyone here suspected that reality's Magus of meddling; he had appeared on that reality's moonbase, after all the "Omegans" had left. Unfortunately, by then, there had been no way to warn them.

The other timeline much discussed was one initially visited by Maya and Alan. With one being called Omega, someone suggested the other major alternate have another Greek name sounding similar, leading to Omicron -- ο. "Cron, chronology, time-travel -- it fits," someone had said. Of course, there were other people's jumps, but Omega and Omicron did stand out as the best-remembered... so far. Sandra had decided to go along. Might as well start tagging these.

Whereas Omega had been in the future, a bitter future, Omicron had been at the opposite end, days before Breakaway upon their arrival. Alan and Maya had apparently been drawn by the energies of the Nuclear Disposal Area One explosion, but fortunately depositing the two people into the base rather than the dump, shortly before that event, actually. That also seemed significant somehow -- maybe. Maya at first seemingly alone, had snuck around for awhile after realizing her predicament, fearful of revealing herself to a people who were firmly circling Earth and had not encountered an alien before. She had nearly gotten herself killed by the local Alan (οAlan, she supposed she could label him), before being rescued by αAlan. (Yes, tagging people's names this way would help, she thought.) They had managed to secure the trust and help of the local Commander and Professor, and had propelled themselves out of that reality by hovering two Eagles over Area Two, with the hope it might also mitigate that explosion and avoid a Breakaway there. They had ended up at Moonbase "Omega" however, only for ΩMagus and then later αTony to appear.

Yet αTony had apparently gone 4000-4400 years into the future too, and remembered none of it. Had someone gone just as far into the past?

Victor had a seven-day jaunt back in time within their own reality, which Victor had just recently pointed out perhaps ought to be dubbed α -- alpha -- of course. It was all relative, however: doubtlessly, at least a few other Sandras would start tagging what they heard about in their time together, and might end up using Greek labels too, and each would probably call her reality Alpha. Sandra shrugged. To her, where she was now was α, and she was glad she was back.

Sandra had met a version of herself from a timeline in which she was in command of the Moonbase itself, and that Commander Benes ended up in command of the Confluence's strange meta-moonbase where the Moon's hyperspatial bubble had also trapped a kilometer-long Psychon ship.

In Command Conferences discussing all this, Commander Koenig had simply nodded, while Tony, had looked very surprised by both parts of that revelation at the time. "Commander Benes?!" he had asked in surprise. She had felt mildly insulted by his tone, yet found his reaction rather amusing and gratifying at the same time.

Tony had, perhaps to cover his response somewhat, jumped to another point, quickly suggesting 'Psi' -- Ψ -- for whatever timeline Cmdr. Benes may have come from. Of course, there was no way to know where the Psychon ship had come from, but Tony mentioned the 'S' sound of Psi worked for Sandra. She had blushed, and only later realized so did Sigma, perhaps more accurately. There was even an early Greek letter that even the Ancient Greeks themselves had ceased to use, named 'san', but decided she did not want to use that either. Regardless, 'Psi' had emerged among the group in Command Conference, and at least didn't directly refer to her, so Sandra decided to stick with it.

Sandra had run a survey during the Confluence, partially electronically, but also through some interviews. She had arranged a lot of questions, trying to find what might be any key pattern. She had summarized various things for Commander Benes, but still knew far more of the details herself. Unfortunately, she did not have any of the physical records, and could not remember all the results, but still knew a lot of startling information.

There was a rather interesting Tanya-commanded reality she dubbed Tau, τ. Some had a Commander Simmonds rather than Commissioner Simmonds, and at least one Sandra had a good performance report on him. She had not labeled those yet.

Abruptly, she thought about Santa Maria, and poor Regina Kesslann, realizing this was yet another timeline, and after thinking how αRegina was connected with that other timeline, decided to call it Rho, ρ, indirectly after Regina. Had Sandra met a ρSandra? She wasn't sure. At least a few Sandras had mentioned an Earth return of some kind, and the name Santa Maria had come up a few times, as well as some Earth returns of other types, from equally 'empty' versions to other sorts. There seemed to be variations from superficially indistinguishable to noticeably different, suggesting that this event, which had been fairly early in the Moonbase's journey, was a significantly common event -- that a number of different realities had been split off and temporarily re-paired.

Yet far from all of the collided realities' doppelgängers recalled such scenarios, and unfortunately, she had not gotten to interview any of the Santa Maria denizens directly. She struggled to remember if any of those same electronic interviews had mentioned a relationship and children with Paul at Santa Maria, as opposed to someplace like Texas City, or some other return and relationship scenario. She still found something fascinating about the possibility that she might have met or at least seen the only other version of herself she had heard about prior to being taken into the Collision -- and something frustrating in not knowing, at least not at the moment.

She hoped more detail on these cases would return later, and part of her was now wishing she could have stayed longer, and found out more, as glad as she had been to get out of that 'madbase' -- as Alan had called it after her descriptions -- at the time.

Besides, it was getting late tonight, and she was getting too tired to sort out much more.

Yet it suddenly struck her to decide that the Confluence was its own reality, or maybe meta-reality, in both senses of 'meta' -- more than one (Sandra) -- and metamorphic. Perhaps Victor or Maya, both of whom had some thoughts about multiple realities, would disagree; but Sandra was now labeling these situations, and felt the Confluence/Collision ought to have a similar label. If she was wrong, the label would probably still stick and could be considered a special case. Could be? Abruptly, she thought of labeling it Sigma -- Σ -- after how that version of the letter was often used for summations. A whole lot Sandras summed up into one odd pocket of space-time.

How many alpha-line people, from this version here, had ended up in one of the realities represented by a Sandra in the ΣAlpha. Alphabet soup. Alphabeta soup, she abruptly thought. Sandra knew of hundreds of Sandras from hundreds of timelines. Had she met ΩSandra from when she was still alive? It was all enough to make her almost dizzy, figuratively; but she was starting to feel even more tired. Still, she wanted to get at least a few more details down in writing tonight, even though there would be plenty for many days' detailing.

She sighed, suddenly feeling like her reality here was, in a very small way, like Σ. Her survey had revealed a variety of different men currently in "her" life, but mostly Paul or Alan -- but only about a third were married or currently in a "strong" relationship. Almost a third did not have a current relationship at all.

Right now, to αSandra, it felt like all three major result groups: Paul or Alan or none. Long after losing Paul, she had started thinking about Alan, and she had sought and found a relationship with him, only for Paul to reappear into her life. Now, she was in limbo, confused, with both backing off to let her think, yet leaving her going in circles, with a relationship virtually suspended and another perhaps on the verge of restarting if she let it. Yet she felt alone at the same time, like too many of the other Sandras were. Evidently, ones named "Sandra Benes" were meant to have confusing romantic lives. Too much, too little. What was wrong with something in the middle? Yet some were successful. She had hope yet.

She ran her hands through her short hair, and abruptly remembered how some had it longer -- and one had it purple. She laughed briefly, then realized just how tired she was.

She decided to stop labeling timelines for now, instead concentrating on just getting the basics -- as many as she could remember -- down in writing before she lost too much information.

Of course, there was the large puzzle of just why this had all happened. Maya and Prof. Bergman were still investigating that. Poor Maya had been battered about by ΩMagus, but had launched back into work almost immediately after awaking from her several-day coma. Had Magus caused some of this? Yet that Magus had seemed, to Maya and others, as seemingly confused by alpha-line versions in the ΩMoonbase. However, he had attempted deceptions there too.

Sandra shook her head and logged out of her terminal. There were no answers yet. Maybe there never would be, she thought as she got a drink of water from the bathroom and then headed to bed. Still, it needed full investigation, by them, by Sandra, by everyone who had traveled, to find out how much they recalled.

Exhausted, she soon started slipping to sleep even as she wondered about the fates of the realities she had seen represented by her various selves, or the haunting Omega.

By the end of the night, it was getting into her dreams. She awoke in the morning realizing she had dreamt of being a Commander. The Psychons had "come back" and were wondering about something called nula, and Sandra had a new mystery to deal with, not as a Data Analyst, but as a Commander. Awake now, Sandra shook her head in the morning, yet with a smile. Silly Tony dubbing the Commander's reality as "Psi" now had Sandra's unconscious mixing Cmdr. Benes and the Psychons together in a dream. Yet the smile, she realized, was for a simple yet profound reason.... Somehow, it seemed so right that had some things been different, she could have become a Commander.

Maybe she needed to take more control, and not let so much of her life just happen and then react to it. She did take control at times, of course. She could not have become be an officer if she did not. She could not have the calm she usually did, if she did not know how to take the right actions. She had even been in temporary command during some of the recent crisis. Still, she felt the need to wake up a little more....

ο |||| T-1999/09/14, 0600-0650: Frayed

It was a short period of time before the predicted "Breakaway" event. Commander Koenig, though technically relieved of command by Commissioner Gerald Simmonds, ordered the evacuation of Alpha -- as much as they could evacuate. If the equations were incorrect, or somewhat off, or had not taken other variables into account, it was possible the Moon might still leave the Earth system.

That no one thought that might leave a non-viable number of people on a complex base flung into space, simply did not occur to anyone in the hurried period.

That the equations were derived from an unwillingly time-traveling and reality-jumping alien was a fact known to very few Alphans.

She, one Maya, Daughter of Mentor of Psychon, Science Officer of the Moonbase Alpha of a future and alternate timeline, was now hovering in a Transporter Eagle over a deceptively-calm Nuclear Waste Disposal Area 2, while Captain Alan Carter, one of her Earth-born fellow Alphan friends from her same time and line, hovered in another Eagle. He was an alternate time-traveler too. Or at least the few pre-Breakaway Alphans in the know believed.

The Alphans were trying to start an evacuation with limited time. This order was given by Koenig, while Simmonds was confined by Security Officer Tony Verdeschi, who had chosen to believe Maya and the alternate Alan, and to follow Commander Koenig rather than Simmonds. Not long after the order was issued, and the alternates left for Area Two in the two Eagles donated to them, the hurried evacuation attempt collapsed.

With only a few dozen people evacuated on a small number of Eagles, the International Lunar Commission, shocked and confused at the whole sequence of events, knowing of the alien and the Carter copy, unable to contact Commissioner Simmonds, under pressure to resume nuclear shipments immediately, and assaulted by various bits of information, panicked.

The order to send Hawks, blocked by Simmonds after he thought he had gained control over the alien, the copy, and Koenig's actions in support of the two, returned full force, in the form of two wings of three Hawks each.

Alpha was ordered to stand down its evacuation attempt, its second-in-command, Paul Morrow, informed of selected details of Koenig's surprise moves, and pushed hard to take control to stabilize the situation. He immediately took action, followed the ILC order, and ceased the evacuation.

The Eagles already evacuating were ordered back, directly from Earth. One disobeyed the order, the rest turned back to Alpha.

With the Hawks from Earth, more Eagles were launched.

One Eagle, with just a pilot and co-pilot, would take up an observational orbit. Some Eagles contained investigators, a number of security personnel, as well as a replacement commander -- Markeson.

Twelve contained nuclear waste. Held up by Koenig's demands to halt shipments, then delayed a little longer a little longer for bureaucratic reasons even after Simmonds had given the go-ahead to resume, four full wings of these Eagles had accumulated in low Earth orbit. Furthermore, an additional five wings had been prepared due to a recent surge in nuclear material gathered up for disposal. Koenig's order couldn't have come at a worse time, and Simmonds had been determined to undo Koenig's surprise roadblock.

Nuclear waste was always a prickly issue. With political pressure quickly mounting against the ILC to get all these suddenly backing-up concentrations of nuclear waste off the planet and out of low orbit, all twenty-seven nuclear Eagles were ordered to proceed to the Moon, namely Area Two. All were sent on their way, fully packed.

One Hawk wing split off towards Area Two, under orders to drive to two Eagles hovering there to abandon the location and go with the Hawks to one of Alpha's disconnected research centres, each of which had an Eagle pad. Force was authorized, ranging up from warning shots, to non-lethal fire, to taking down the Eagles if necessary.

The orders were not to fire upon the Eagles, except if directly threatened.

α |||| F-2545 DAB 1800-2220: Of Bird and Cat

Even as Maya woke up on what was the beginning Alpha's Friday evening, she still felt a little tired, but she was starting to feel a little more centered again, after all the wildness. At least her still-mysterious head wound, hidden by her hair, had almost entirely healed by now, though it seemed a small area of it might remain an rarely-seen scar, something that happened only infrequently with Psychons. She still had no memory of when or how she had sustained it.

Overall, however, there was still much information to gather, discuss, and further analyze from the sheer strangeness of events which still felt recent. There was little coherent understanding of what it all might mean. Sandra was busily listing out what was already a list of a couple dozen timelines she was aware of at least some detail, and said she'd probably be able to recall at least one detail about most of the almost three-hundred total, and a number of details about many of them.

Psychons had speculated about the possibility of divergent realities, and there were even some advanced metamaths suggesting this might just be possible, yet that it could not be an infinite occurrence. There what was metaphorically called 'confinement' principles, which some philosophers felt was one of the greatest mysteries of all. Why not either just one or potentially proximal'infinite'progression, rather than mere thousands or millions or billions or such? No one really knew the number, or was even entirely sure of the hypothesis.

Yet what really seemed the most unusual part of an already mysterious sequence of events, was what had happened to Sandra. No one had speculated on that sort of possibility, and Maya was even more keen on trying to understand what that might have been.

She had been spending days trying to unravel the mystery, on her own and with various people, especially Victor. It was he who finally "shooed" her away for the weekend. She had to admit that as much as she enjoyed the challenge, she was ready to set it aside for awhile -- for her weekend.

The schedule Sandra had assembled for Maya on one of her first days on Alpha had proven so effective, so well balanced in many ways, despite various disruptions, that it had stayed permanent. Five of Maya's longer days to the others' seven days had sometimes proven annoying to one side or the other, but on Fridays, it had usually worked well, giving her time off and her breakfast right around an early evening supper -- something she and Tony had often taken advantage of, more as the years had gone by. Not every Friday, because there were other events, other friends to socialize with as well.

Today, however, nothing had been scheduled beforehand yet. As she prepared for her new day, she decided to see if one of her friends was free for a meal. It had been awhile since she had talked with Janina, she thought. Yes, she would invite Janina and her husband over.

Not long after she was finished showering and was in uniform, however, Tony called in.

She smiled. Though she missed talking with Janina, the last time she had talked with Tony, there had been some surprises. He had eventually apologized, out of the blue, for what he said was his insensitivity regarding her fears regarding a return to Earth. She had always tried to squash them for the sake of her friends, to try putting on a happy face when she could, which was not always, or to at least not look too worried.

It had been difficult enough learning to adjust to living among almost three hundred aliens. She rarely thought of them as such any more, but the effects lingered. Yet at least there were many here who had befriended her, and most tolerated her. Earth meant little to her but billions more people, everyone she met staring at her, maybe suspiciously.

Yet curiously, even she now had one memory of Earth, as a beautiful blue and white world floating above the lunar horizon. That her view was from the Moonbase Alpha of another reality now designated Omicron/ο, and that its presence had only confirmed her worst fears at the time, had slightly faded from her memory of that moment, leaving her an unexpected memory of Earth, of her own.

At the same time, though, there had been problems there, in part represented by Simmonds. They had been pre-Breakaway Alphans or Earth authorities, however. Would the alpha-timeline people on Earth have better understood the Alphans picking up a stray alien in their long journeys and been more tolerant, if an Earth return post-Breakaway had been possible? Yet the thought of the possible suspicions and maybe just getting lost among billions had always left her with a cold feeling gripping her at times, any other time the possibility of an Earth 'return' came up. Suddenly, Tony just seemed to understand that and more.

She smiled again, and said, "Come in." He had some new data in hand that he had promised her the last time they had been on Command Center duty shift together. Yet that data simply ended up on her desk rather quickly, as they instead chose to share a long hello kiss, her arms wrapped around him, and his hands soon moving gently up and down her back, and her wanting more yet still trying to be patient.

Ever since his recovery from injuries on the planet with a sort of 'immune response' by the energy entity residing there, there had started to be more frequent physical affirmations of their relationship than there had been previously, which had been becoming more frequent recently.

She had been uncomfortable with such major gestures early in their relationship, given it was more the Psychon way to hold even that partial physicality until somewhat later in a relationship, to let the passion build, rather than giving into even a relatively small amount too early. Light kisses and hand-holding might start early, but heavier kissing or hand movements were supposed to wait to ensure a true friendship could flourish, and other gestures develop over time.

Sometimes, though, after this had taken so long, and especially with still awakening in her bed alone every morning, she had wondered if she had made a mistake. She was well past the age of thinning, a simple physical change which happened at about the same age for every female, when Psychon women lost some cheek shading. Statistically, by that age, most were married. At that time, years ago now, Maya had "only" having a slow-moving relationship with Tony. She had sometimes wondered if she was too greedy, yet was happy to have that much of a relationship -- but also wondered if she had stayed too Psychon. Maybe she had missed other opportunities or need for further change to adapt to her life here, which she was still essentially certain would be for the rest of her life. Perhaps she had been too patient.

Getting seemingly tossed to the side three years ago had not helped, but there had been recovery and further forward strides, and they were further along than ever.

Only a little of this was on Maya's mind now, however, as she simply let herself enjoy the moment and let Tony enjoy the opportunity for his hands to rove her body a little, something she enjoyed too. She let her hands move on his body somewhat too, even as she felt she wanted him to touch more of her.

This only made her suddenly uncomfortable, many of her recent thoughts rising to the surface. She separated from him, trying to make it seem like it was a comfortable ending, and, as usual, just about to try to smoothly transition to chatting some small'talk. This typically did not work well, Tony tending to seem surprised, annoyed, or just a little sad. This time, he had an understanding look, and his first words were even more of a surprise.

"Maya, I think I understand your caution, but I sometimes wonder if there isn't more to it. May I ask a personal question?" Tony said.

"Yes, and you don't have to ask if you can ask. You have already been asking for awhile, anyway," she said, finding herself pleased with the recognition, even though it was not a new one on her part.

"Well, true, but this is a little further, I think," he explained gently, as they both moved to the two chairs in one part of the room.

"Oh, please, ask," she said quietly, as she sat and watched him sit down, even as she wondered if she was going to regret her permission.

"I have noticed that you seem to be troubled by something, and that you have been for awhile. Maybe I missed when it started, but when I noticed, I eventually had a suspicion what it is about, at least in part."

She pursed her lips a little, tightly. This was probably going to be a very difficult discussion, if he pressed, and she suddenly hoped he would not. Yet at the same time, she hoped that he would, to get it over with.

"Part of you still feels alone, and isolated, after the Dorcons. That maybe you feel they hunted you like you really were the last of your kind."

He hadn't even said the worst of it, and had only scratched the surface. Yet despite their having more and more deep'talk the last few months, she had gotten more and more resistant about wanting to bring this up. Walling it off from others, and sometimes even from herself. Yet she couldn't just keep trying to ignore such things. The trouble had grown, accumulating, until it had started preying on her mind more, apparently becoming noticeable to others too.

She was surprised at his directness on this, but maybe he had sensed that it was time to get into this. Yet some of it, or what it connected to, was fundamental in some ways.

Maybe it was time to confront this. Tony was not saying anything more, did not have a demanding look on his face, just patience and concern.

Suddenly, Maya wanted even more to be with him, but felt even further away from that. She would have to talk more than just about Psychons and Dorcons. Yet that was the place to start.

"The Commander explained it was not my fault. So have you. I understand that. None of it was my decision. People defend their own, as he said. It makes me feel even more part of your people that I am defended as one. Yet my people have brought pain to your people." She felt uncomfortable, and suddenly stood up, walked halfway to the bed, her eyes connecting with the eyes of the painting of her father, the father she had known but they had not: the kind, gentle man. Yet the same person had done terrible things too, and she knew she had to talk about him in other ways too. "My own father killed four Alphans, in my first real shock of what our people could sometimes transform into."

She turned back towards Tony, but did not walk closer. "The second was Dorzak, who brought chaos to worlds, and even near or on Alpha, resulting in the deaths of two Crotons and threatening Helena and others, and you having to go through surgery twice just to undo the damage done after I had pleaded his innocence -- just as I had shouted the innocence of my father only to be proven wrong."

Tony had needed to have the Croton neuro-pulsonic jammer implanted, in order to confront Dorzak, and after that was done, Maya had been present for the second surgery, to have it removed. Very clever Tony and the others had been, to see through Dorzak sooner, and for Tony to have done this. At the time, she had felt a little shaky inside, queasy really, over what had happened -- a bit in shock but pushing it aside, trying to show she was firmly back on Alpha's side. She had never left it really, but had pushed too hard on premises she had not known were flawed, and which had endangered people.

Her later apology to Tony for her insisting so much, especially on him, drawing on their relationship, not cynically but innocently yet still perhaps wrongly in the end, had been met with understanding, more than she expected really. "Think nothing more about it," Tony had said. A common response of acceptance and understanding around here. Though part of her had hoped for that quick of forgiveness, she had not really wanted that equally quick of an end to the deep'talk. However, she had not known whether persisting would be wrong of her. So something which could have been talked about more -- should have been talked about more -- had slipped quietly out of sight.

Before the short pause turned too long, she quickly ended her statement. "Then my presence somehow drew the vicious Dorcons here, killing more of your people, injuring others, further imperiling the Commander," she said heavily as she walked another direction, to the far side of the room, to stare at a large painting of a peaceful, idyllic Earth scene of hills and trees and water and distant animals. She just stared at the picture for awhile, then felt Tony come up behind her and grasp both of her shoulders gently.

"First, Maya, I don't care about those surgeries. They were to rescue you, and Helena and Sahala as well, so on any and all of those counts, the pain was well worth it. It would have been even if it had been much worse, like I suffered at Breakaway or from that robot creature, or even beyond."

His declaration warmed her a bit, yet it was a chilly thought, of pain, and she frowned at the truth: "It shouldn't have happened."

He turned her gently to face him as he answered. "A lot shouldn't have happened, but we deal with it. You were defending someone you knew, thinking there had to be some misunderstanding, or some deception on Sahala's part. We've seen that too in space. You've defended us many times, starting right from your first meeting us. We've defended you. Alphans have saved each other many times over here. It is our way of life, it seems. If we all did nothing but look at the negative side of having needed saving, or someone putting their lives in danger, or at tragic actual loss, to do so, we'd have been head cases -- or all been dead -- a long time ago."

"Not everyone has been so...." She trailed off, and looked away, realizing her next statement was about to partially deny what he had just said, when she so much appreciated the fact that what he had said was mostly true.

"I know. Stewart and others were willing to throw you away."

She was a little startled by his realizing her thoughts, and looked at him. "He has apologized to me, and I accepted that," she declared.

"He apologized to me as well."

"To you?" she said, puzzled.

"He knows perfectly well that we're in a relationship, that he was so willing to hand my girlfriend over to the dogs. I suspect he apologized to John as well."

Girlfriend. She knew perfectly well that was the case, but it wasn't like he needed to say that often around her, since everyone on Alpha knew. So it still warmed her heart to hear him say it, and say it so simply, so easily. "I did not realize that, but maybe I should have, since I have apologized in such a manner before."

"We all have moments of weakness. I know you and Stewart have never gotten along much beyond simple professionalism in Command Center, and I know he's never tried much to hide it, but I believe in retrospect he realized how wrong he was."

She paused for awhile, and they eventually wandered back to the chairs. She then breathed in again, and said, "My feelings of guilt, however misplaced they may be, are still difficult."

"Feelings of guilt are difficult to escape. Many of us, if not all, have had regrets and some guilt, sometimes deeply."

He paused. It was not the kind of discussion they had all that often, but he was trying, and for some reason, she was again convinced this was who he really was, underneath all the surface layers of detachment and his other tendencies. That he always cared, and often demonstrated it, but sometimes had trouble saying it.

"I'm no psychologist," he continued, "but I know you trust the thoughts of your friends. I don't know what others might tell you; but to me, it is best to try to let it go. It may never entirely fade away, but let it fade. Talk about it. I'm here, whenever you want to talk."

"Thank you," she said simply, though she felt more.

"Second of all, 'your people' have brought us something other than pain: you. You have been nothing but steady, nothing but helpful. A friend to many. Patient with us too. A wonderful girlfriend. One incredible woman in so many ways."

She unconsciously smiled a little, but shyly, then frowned.

"So many of my people have turned negative, destructive."

"You say 'many' -- but so far I only saw two who were. You don't know the circumstances of how others followed Dorzak, regardless of what happened to them. I know, probably a clumsy way of saying I don't think you can really know if it was two who were flawed and many who followed, or worse -- or even be certain what happened to everyone."

"No, but it seems there is some flaw in us, that can turn us into monsters, and not via molecular transformation."

"Maya, I know you're not much the historian, and have never really probed much about Earth, but I also know you've heard or read enough to realize we've got our dark side as well. Most of us never fall that far, though all of us have a few flaws."

"I'm not sure I have any basis of comparison. To my regret now about Psychon, I have never had much interest in history, as you said. But more immediately, if that is a more common flaw now, including in my own father, and if any of it is genetic, then...." She trailed off very abruptly, unsure how to frame some more of the rest of her unresolved thoughts and fears.

He waited for her to continue, but she was of divided mind whether to continue at all. They had to do so, if their relationship was to advance to any true understanding on it.

He took the lead, the loose end. "You're talking about children. Your potential children here."

She looked down. "If that is even possible, which neither Helena nor I know."

"Well, again, one thing at a time. If you're talking about a flaw, well who knows what the flaw is, if such even exists. Do you think it would be genetic?"

"Tony, I don't know."

"Exactly. None of us do. Psychon flaws or human flaws, who knows how much is genetic, upbringing or lack thereof, or further environment outside the family. Everyone who takes a roll in bed is rolling the dice." She couldn't help but glance towards her bed for a brief moment. Some of her dreams lately.... "On whether a child will result," Tony was continuing. "Exactly what genes he or she will have. Whether that child will be born at a normal time or be premature. Whether there will be physical problems. Whether the child will suffer relatively few illnesses or many. How smart or attractive the child will be. What sort of temperament he or she will have, socially adjusted, self-adjusted, selfish or selfless. Regardless of how much is genetic or environment. There are many factors. You cannot deny yourself the chance at having a child just because you don't know the outcome. If we all did that... well, you can guess what would happen."

It was curious, for it sounded like he had thought through these things. Probably not for the first time either. Maybe it was the first time he had thought about being so direct, talking so deeply. Yet it seemed clear he had thought about this, even if he had not talked before now.

Yet there were things she had thought about too, regarding this, that she had been troubled by.... "Even if so, is it fair of me to deny some man the chance of his having a child, if trying with me is ultimately futile?"

He suddenly realized just how wise it had been to talk with her some more before proposing. No wonder she had been somewhat distant and distracted of late. Still-unresolved questions created by Mentor, Dorzak, the Dorcons, the genetic uncertainty -- his increasingly deeper discussions with her still not getting deep enough.

He shouldn't have been surprised, and mostly wasn't. He had considered a lot of this, but she always seemed to adjust so quickly, show so little pain. He should have known better, or at least talked more before. She had never lost her fears, even if the fears had changed over time. She was a strong woman in so many ways, but she still could not help feeling out of place at times, however welcome she had increasingly felt over the years.

He mentally kicked himself. It was not the first time he had unintentionally hurt her.

"I should have talked to you more than I have, but I want to make up for that," Tony stated. "Let me start here, today, with this discussion we have been having."

"You have been talking with me, more and more lately."

"Not enough."

"I have not been very open about some things," Maya admitted.

"Maybe, but let's start ending that here."

"Okay, I would like that."

"So let me just say, that, like I said, no one can really know whether children will result from any relationship. Some couples can try all their lives and not have one."

"But my chances are so much lower than-"

"But that is a known fact around here. It is no secret at all that Helena's early findings neither exclude nor explicitly include you. Any man wanting a relationship with you knows that the chances are more uncertain. And again, on Earth, there are some couples wanting children who can't seem to succeed. Many, when confronted with that, try to find out if there are ways to improve the chances, or choose to adopt children, or choose to adapt to not having children."

She paused, and looked into his eyes. "Is that what you would do?"

There was her occasional blunt question, so well timed, he thought. He reached his hands out, and took her hands in his. "Yes, the options are all there, as far as I am concerned."

She looked at him, with that somewhat wide-eyed semi-startled look that Tony still found intensely charming.

She apparently suddenly felt freer to ask very direct questions, for another very direct one followed: "You've sometimes talked about wanting children. How many?"

This is good, he thought. "Well, I came from a family of four children. I've long thought between two and four for myself, but over time on Alpha, I really started leaning towards four. What about you?"

"Four," she said firmly. It did not seem like simply echoing him, either.

"Well, I'm not surprised. You're a natural around kids, at least when the parents have given you a chance," he said as their hands slid apart for now. "I've gotten the impression that two were more typical."

"Yes, it was. Two. Sometimes one, sometimes three. Rarely more. When I was young, I thought two. After so many years almost alone there, and then years here with uncertainty, and sometimes being kept away from children here, I started thinking four -- even while thinking it might be unrealistic."

"I can understand about you thinking of wanting more. A lot of us are thinking in bigger numbers. Alpha's uncertain future. Strict birth control rules, few children being allowed after that so-called baby boomlet. Everyone's looked at forty children as being far better than nothing, but far fewer than everyone wants -- than what we need. I'm hearing lots of threes and fours and fives."

"So I am once again like an Alphan, maybe not for all identical reasons but for a lot of overlapping and similar reasons."

He smiled. Sometimes she was missing the point, even if the reasons were more than perfectly understandable. "Maya, you've been Alphan from the moment John and Helena accepted you, regardless of whether everyone thought the same. Different origin, but a lot like us in many ways, even if it has taken some people years to figure it out."

She smiled, not even questioning the statement. He knew perfectly well her origin would always be part of her, part of how she reacted and thought, and part of how she was seen; but to a lot of people, those were positives, not negatives, and knew that at some level, she knew that pretty well, but had obviously harbored concerns and even fears -- some perhaps similar to her first days but some replaced with newer ones.

In so many ways, it seemed right that he had gone from one of the most suspicious of her to the deepest in love with her.

It wasn't time for the question. She had to think about these things, understand that he had found how to talk with her about even more important issues. Besides, he had to finish preparing how he was going to ask her.

She had a deeply thoughtful look, not an expectant look. He had to stop himself from smiling, though. He was excited, and hopeful this was a helpful change in himself and their relationship.

Still, there were a few more things that could be done.

He waited to see if she wanted to bring up anything else, but it did not seem she wanted to. His stomach growled. Well, he hadn't wanted to make one of those "few more things" that obvious.

She looked at him with a bemused, and very warm smile on her face. "Good conversations make you hungry?" she teased.

"I was going to say it is Friday," Tony started. "It is still only mid-evening, too."

"French Friday? That's romantic, and I am hungry; but how about we cook something together, here in my quarters?"

Curiously, while each had cooked for the other any number of times, it had been the first they had tried cooking together, rather than one watching or just helping with dishes or other little things. A lot of laughter ensued as they worked on food together. Maya ended up with flour on the tip of her nose, and her hand was printed in flour on his cheek for awhile. It didn't matter much that microwaves still weren't the best way to cook food, nor that the selections were a mix of "breakfast" and "supper" foods.

A little later, while eating, she looked at him, and with a teasing smile, said, "Why haven't you ever given me a nickname, Tony?"

His face got that look that some called 'deer in headlights' -- something she had rarely seen from him.

"You have given so many other people nicknames," she continued.

"I've been calling you Honey."

"Oh, and don't misunderstand. I like that, very much. Still...."

Suddenly, given the way he was looking at her -- or more like being evasive -- she realized he had thought of a nickname at some point. She put her elbow on the table, her forearm up in the air, and rested her chin on her hand. Smiling, she looked at him intently, and said, "So you do have one. What is it?"

"Well, it's one that came to mind just after we met, before I really knew anything about you, and once I did, I was pretty sure you would not like it."

She raised her head slightly, not frowning, and still curious. "Why? Because you were still suspicious of me, and it was mean?"

"No... not mean. Just somehow seemed inappropriate when I learned more about you."

"Inappropriate? In what way?"

"It was metaphorical. Before I learned you were a metamorph."

She shook her head ever so slightly, puzzled, then said. "What is it? Whatever you thought then doesn't matter now. I'm curious."

He laughed a little nervously, saying, "Curiosity: One of your defining characteristics."

Was he stalling? She just smiled, though, unconcerned, and put her chin back on her hand. After all she had talked about... revealed.

Finally, he just stated it: "Catbird."

"Catbird? Ohh, I like it."

"You do?"

"Couples sometimes had affectionate names like that for each other."

"On Psychon? I thought you barely understood the idea of nicknames."

"It is not rare but not common. Only among some couples, in private, and unheard of elsewhere. Your patterns were all new. You use them every day. Everyone calls you Tony instead of Anthony. Smitty instead of John Smith. Many still call Janina 'Joan' instead. Sahn sometimes, instead of Sandra. No one ever did that on Psychon."

Tony started blushing.

Maya laughed a little, saying, "What?"

"So by Psychon standards, I gave you a... an affectionate name before we were ever a couple."

"Yes, so romantic," Maya said with a sly smile.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother." He paused, then said, "Okay, I admit it. Despite the suspicions, part of me found you attractive right away."

She smiled, shyly. "So what did you think about me when you first saw me?"

"Well, my thoughts were quite succinct at first.... Pretty.... Prisoner?"

"You thought that I was pretty, and that I was the Commander's and Helena's prisoner?"

"Yeah, just about the first instant I saw you."

"Which first?"

"Well, practically at the same moment. But... pretty... was first."

She smiled once again. She had been lighting up the room like that for awhile, and his life for some time. Yes, far too long, it had taken to decide to commit.

"So what did you think about me?" he asked with equal directness.

"I saw your face back in the Grove... on Psychon. When you stepped up next to the Commander, just behind him -- into view for a few moments. I thought you were attractive. When I got here, I was more than a little scared, though. I recognized you immediately." She paused, though.

"And you thought I was going to shoot you."

"Yes. 'Please don't hurt me,' I thought. But you never did."

"Well, I've hurt you a few times, in words, though."

"No couple is perfect. That was true on Psychon, and I've been told by my friends that it is equally true here."

"You're too forgiving."

"I'm too curious. If you didn't know I was a metamorph, why Catbird?"

He laughed, then said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but your facial features reminded me vaguely of a lynx -- a kind of cat. Plus, with all the feathers on your dress, for a moment I was picturing you raising your arms and looking like you had wings."

She couldn't help it: she broke out laughing.

"So you're not upset."

"Upset? That is so funny. I like it." She leaned across the table, and they kissed briefly. "You can call me Catbird sometimes when in private. I would enjoy that, very much."

"Okay, Catbird," he said, now leaning towards her, for another kiss.

The conversation drifted from topic to topic, as the quantity of food on their plates slowly declined. The talk sometimes turning more serious in tone, topics changing even well after the meal was over. Finally, he realized he hadn't asked in a couple days how she was doing after the battering she had gotten at the hands -- figuratively -- of Magus. She had gotten over the physical part -- the bruises and the pain, which she had said little about. The mysterious, mostly-healed head wound got mentioned. Yet he thought she brought it up as a way of turning the topic from Magus, as Helena thought that wound pre-dated the meeting with ΩMagus. So he went a little deeper, and drew out of her that she was having a nightmare every few days about that new encounter with Magus.

"Oh, Honey, I'm sorry." He had seen one of her nightmares play out her very first night here, but knew they had slowly but long since faded to the usual 'rarity' Maya indicated they were for her and Psychons in general.

Suddenly, the thought of her suffering nightmares alone pulled at him. He had been there for her first on Alpha, when she was suffering one in Medical Center and even he, suspicious and all, still tried to calm her. Part of him suddenly hoped he could be there for her last -- that if she suffered one more, she would wake up beside him and maybe realize she did not have to have nightmares anymore. It seemed a silly and probably unrealistic thought -- but he could only hope.

They talked awhile about the nightmares, letting her talk some of them out.

In the end, though, having just talked about how his Catbird nickname, thought up before he knew she was a metamorph, hearing about her nightmares of Magus, and recalling how he had previously heard that she had dreamt imagery congruent with Magus, all collided in his mind, and a question struck him.

"You know, what I can't figure out from the story I heard, was why you were having nightmare imagery the others were able to figure out was regarding Magus -- and that it turned out he was skulking around."

"Hmm, I've wondered a little about that."

"I mean you have some unique senses, of course; but outright psychic, like you read his mind was around? I know you can't reach out like that. Or did you just sense his form, like he was on Alpha that whole time but... cloaked."

"It usually doesn't work that way. I am sensitive to lifeforms, but usually have to extend my thoughts to sense their form. It... is complicated, but that is why I am still surprised."

"And why only so unconsciously that way? Was part of you aware, but also remembering how he can manipulate thoughts to a degree, that your subconscious hid full awareness of that knowledge but 'leaked' it out?"

"Tony... I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "Sometimes I've known thoughts to... bubble up from my unconscious. Not that much different than you, from what I understand."

"True. Still, something had to be a clue to your unconscious. I know it could just be coincidence, but it is so unlikely."

"Yes, highly unlikely."

They moved on to a long-delayed dessert, and back to lighter topics.

ο |||| T-1999/09/14, 0650-0810: Nerves

Captain Bill Fraser arrived at station in high orbit, to provide "high eyes" on the situation, as ordered by Earth.

It was his first time back here since training flights, years ago. He still thought it was funny sometimes, how he had always thought he'd get to the Moon by being operations personnel, starting in the U.K.'s Space Control Centre and then maybe advancing to a position on Alpha, and eventually its Main Mission. Instead, someone managed to convince him he'd make a good pilot, and had pushed him to join the Royal Air Force. That had worked just as well, he had found, progressing into the Royal Astronaut Corps. Ironically, he had not yet gotten a posting on Alpha. He had time, though.

Right now, he wasn't sure he wanted to be there. Sheer chaos seemed to have taken hold on the Moon. Something had triggered what was being vaguely called "panic" on Alpha, which had then triggered panic in the ILC back on Earth.

From the vague orders and scattered rumours running rife among the astronaut corps, it seemed there were illnesses among astronauts, then some sort of nuclear (or magnetic, as one claimed, presumably from mistaken second-hand information) accident in one of the smaller dumps, reputedly Area One. Koenig had sent some sort of halt orders on nuclear shipments, and after that all hell broke loose. Simmonds had declared Koenig incompetent? After only days? Someone was predicting a massive explosion on the Moon? One of the Computer Labs on Earth was reporting strange equations had come from the Moon, whatever that rumour-mutated statement was supposed to mean.

Bill would sooner trust any commander than any commissioner, especially if the latter was Simmonds, and the former was Gorski or Koenig. The last he knew from reputation, and it was a good one. It made no sense that Koenig could be removed so quickly after a posting. It either showed a shocking breakdown in Koenig, a shocking breakdown in the ILC's screening and decision-making process, or some intense politics between Simmonds and Koenig under the strain of strange events with pilots dying on Alpha and whatever had happened at Area One.

There were rumours of a "mutiny" involving Koenig, and apparently, two other "mutineers" had stolen Eagles and were planning on bombing Area Two. Wasn't Area Two a massive bomb already? He had never liked the idea of concentrating so much waste in small areas, when there was so much Moon. He was not a physicist or engineer, however -- nor a politician.

Other rumours said they were trying to prevent a massive explosion, and that so was Koenig. That was something Fraser found far more believable.

As his co-pilot zoomed cameras into Area Two, until they could see two Eagles, small but clear in the view. The most bizarre claim, coming across an inter-pilot line just minutes ago, was that one Eagle below was piloted by a female alien. Ridiculous. Where had such rumours come from? Other scuttlebutt said the Area Two pile was being scattered about, disorganized, across a wider area of lunar surface. The chaos was absolutely stunning, and Bill had no idea what to believe.

The first Hawk wing passed ten kilometers away, headed towards Area One. The other Hawk wing was trailing and on a different path, but now well within the Moon's gravitational influence.

Bill watched as the nuclear Eagles followed the wing of Hawks.

Some of the other Eagles continued towards Alpha, but one still had not reached even Bill's position. Cmdr. Markeson's Eagle was apparently later to launch and/or trailing to allow security forces some measure of time to reach Alpha and start securing the situation there.

Time passed, and the Hawks were approaching Area Two, while the Eagles came in for temporary landings before reaching that point, letting the Hawks continue on to deal with the mutineers or terrorists or whoever they were. Fortunately, the two would probably not detect the Hawks' continued approach until they were surrounded, as even Bill could pick up disturbances.

Then he frowned. Disturbances. While he focused on those, he ordered his co-pilot to pan the magnified view around some, and when zoomed in enough, they were both startled by realization of what they were seeing. Nuclear containment covers opened, individual canisters glinting off the lunar surface outside of Area Two. They looked at each other. The pile had been partially broken apart, but now only the two Eagles hovered there. They weren't even Winch Eagles, and couldn't have done this.

Bill's frown deepened. "Wait a second. Why are we sending more waste to Area Two if the pile has been partially broken apart?"

His co-pilot, an American, looked at him with sudden bewilderment, then commented, "What the hell is going on at the ILC?"

"You have no idea. Well, neither do I. We were told not to contact Alpha due to problems there, but this is nonsense. Raise them immediately."

"There's too much interference near the Moon; we'd be better contacting Earth to-- Captain! Look at your monitor."

There seemed to be arcs of energy, like electricity in Tesla coils, or more like lightning shooting from the ground.

The two Eagles, hovering high over the area, remained largely unaffected.

"Contact Central Control immediately. Area Two is going up, and I don't think the Eagles have anything to do with it."

It was a stunning progression which followed. The Eagles continued hovering, but genuine explosions began. The hovering Eagles remained so for some seconds later, until one and then the other began erratic movements. The explosions intensified.

"My God!" his co-pilot uttered.

The explosions were consuming all of Area Two. One of the Eagles took a sickening dive, followed not long after by the other, and both vanished into the explosions.

A moment later, Bill had to shield his eyes, as Area Two abruptly went critical.

"Captain, we're being pulled out of orbit!"

It was not hard to block the explosion's light, but also not hard to refute the last thought.

"No, the Moon is going out of orbit! Pull away! Pull away!"

They turned their Eagle and pushed the engines to full speed, but the ILC had put considerable numbers of Eagles and Hawks near the Moon, and even in wide-open space, Bill found himself having to take evasive action to avoid an Alphan evacuation Eagle returning to the Moon. That alteration pointed him right back at the Moon, and by the time they had recovered and turned again, they were more caught up with the Moon than before.

By the time they fully recovered, they were plunging out of Earth orbit. The Eagle's computer refused to process any of this, forcing his co-pilot to run a few numbers the hard way.

"Bill, these don't add up. They have to be partially wrong."

"What's your best guess at which is better?!"

"I don't think we can make it back to the Earth. Follow the Moon."

"Thank you. Scan for the other Eagles and the Hawks."

"It appears the nuclear Eagles all either landed or crashed beyond the blast radius. One or two look crashed. Captain, they're not far from some of the dispersed canisters."

"The Hawk wing?"

"I can't find them. I think they were destroyed near Area Two, or crashed somewhere I can't find."

"The other Hawk wing?"

"Running scanners. It is safe, keeping pace with the Moon. It looks like they made the same decision."

"Probably less choice: they were already even closer to the Moon than we."

"Evacuation Eagles?"

"I think the two still outbound were left near Earth. Two of the others are approaching the Moon. I can't find two -- oh, wait, one is trying to return to Earth. The other is keeping pace at a greater distance than us."

"What is the Moon's course?"

"Eagle Computer still refuses to calculate. My guess is well out of orbit."

"Okay, we may need to help the nuclear Eagle pilots. I'll start approaching Area Two. Activate the passive radiation sensors. Try contacting Central Control on Earth."

"We're already quite a few lunar orbit radii away from Earth."

"Try anyway."

It was a futile effort. The transmitters on the Eagle were strong, but they were running against massive interference, probably overlapping traffic in the wake of the disaster. Either that or electromagnetic chaos from Area Two.

So far, Cmdr. Markeson's Eagle had not been heard from yet, and Fraser suspected he had immediately ordered it turned around, back towards Earth.

Finally, some communications started to sort out. Report of damage to Alpha, and a returning Rescue Eagle, just about to land, crashed near Main Mission, had everyone worried.

Bill had his co-pilot bring up magnification on Alpha Moonbase, and found a fissure near the base. Probably at least one section was damaged. The downed Eagle was not hard to find, but it was hard to see what damage it may have caused.

Bill was now able to contact the Eagles and Hawks. With command structure not asserting itself from Alpha yet, especially considering the situation there had been a mess already, and Cmdr. Markeson presumably still returning to Earth, Bill took command of the various spacecraft, ordering all fully-loaded Eagles to Alpha. The Eagle nearby that was attempting a direct return to Earth was ordered back, for his own instincts were with the co-pilot's, that the Moon had already dragged all the nearby ships with it. They still had had to fight to keep up; but the pull of the Moon's gravity as it had accelerated away was still too powerful.

The Eagle ignored his order, however. Insistent tries resulted in a closed connection from their end. For a brief moment, Bill wondered if this was Markeson's Eagle instead of it being much closer to Earth as Fraser had assumed earlier. Regardless, the captain had no choice but to cease paying attention to that one Eagle and concentrate on the ones he could help.

He ordered the surviving Hawks and any partially-empty passenger Eagles towards Area Two to help any rescue.

Radiation levels were surprisingly low, like they had dispersed quickly into space, had totally consumed themselves (though that seemed unlikely), or that the radiation had simply disappeared, or been left behind. All of the spacecraft were well-shielded, but flying into the heart of a radioactive wasteland would not have been wise. The fact that it was not that radioactive was a minor but welcome mystery.

They arrived on station. A huge, glowing crater dominated the view ahead of them. All around its edges and beyond were various hastily-dumped and unexploded waste containers from Alpha's attempts to mitigate the explosion. Perhaps that had been successful after all; but the ships could not calculate the new course, and the rumours of what the prediction were just that: rumours.

Several Eagles were sitting beyond the randomly-dumped canisters, most sheltered behind hills. They had wisely stayed away from what might have been a confrontation, or had been ordered there by a Hawk pilot, or had perhaps suffered interference and landed due to that.

Two, however, were indeed crashed. One was missing, perhaps having landed too close to the blast, or still being in flight during the blast.

None of the apparently-intact nuclear Eagles were communicating, so Bill, after his co-pilot ran scans for radiation again, settled his Eagle close to one of the insensate ones, pilot module facing pilot module.

To their relief, they saw movement in the other Eagle, and a few minutes later, astronauts emerged via the pilot module's evacuation hatch. They began walking towards Bill's Eagle, one clearly guiding the other.

Bill depressurized his Eagle's cabin, and after the two others were onboard, repressurized it. They had to talk to the two.

One of the pilots was blind. The other was having trouble seeing.

"We were lucky to survive at all," the first said. I really thought the blast was going to be worse -- but it was bad enough."

"What about your Eagle?"

"It's mostly burned out. All major systems down or destroyed. Reserve power and protected circuits only. It's not moving, and I doubt the others will. I'm glad our suits were simpler electronics that are still working."

"Indeed," Bill said.

Bill went back to the pilot module, and ordered the other ships to affect rescue. After having his co-pilot order the two survivors to change spacesuits into the redundant, over-large "extra" suits, moved to another Eagle, depressurizing the passenger module, and let two more join the two already rescued.

The others reported more mixed results. Some did not survive the crash. The "missing" Eagle had been pulverized by a massive piece of debris. One pilot's spacesuit failed attempting to cross the Moon's surface. The Hawk wing sent to Area Two was not found, presumably having approached the two previously hovering Eagles from behind in the interference, and perhaps being well within the blast radius even if it had not reached confrontation point.

There was no sign of the two Eagles which had been hovering above the area before its blast. They had to have been vaporized with the three Hawks sent to confront them.

Perhaps the two Eagles had indeed done something to mitigate the explosion, for it had not even consumed all the available canisters nor the nuclear Eagles just beyond them.

Bill's highly unscientific hypothesis, as shaky as it was, seemed to make more sense than rebellious terrorists trying to create an explosion. After all, the "lightning" or whatever it was had emanated from the ground, not the two Eagles.

Everyone who could be rescued was on board mobile spacecraft within thirty minutes, some spacecraft leaving as they filled up. There were five bodies which would have to be recovered later, as it would take all the functional Eagles present to rescue the casualties to Alpha. The pulverized Eagle was left as well, for a huge pile of debris sat on its totally-crushed pilot module, and they had no means of moving any of the rock now. They would have to be recovered at a later point.

All of the nuclear Eagles were abandoned for now, until the rescued pilots, most injured, could be brought to Alpha. Any attempt to get them moving again would come later.

At one point on the return flight, Bill noticed a tiny blue dot in his view. For a brief moment, he was puzzled at what it could be; then, with a moment of shock despite all that had happened, he realized it was Earth.

α |||| M-2548 DAB 1430-1550: Of Bird and Butterflies

It had been yet another shift in Tony. Maya had seen this before, of him suddenly moving on to a new or improved way of interacting with her. As always, it was so welcome.

They had been enjoying even more meals together, and talking about things they had been sharing before, as well as continuing their deeper discussions. Not the exact topics, but other aspects of them, or even her talking about Mentor more often, since she still had deeply unresolved feelings about him. Not that either expected to solve that -- her father's fall would haunt her for the rest of her life -- but to turn some avoidance into... she didn't know what yet.

She had talked some with Helena early on Alpha, and with the Commander on Luton; but aside from that, had started walling it away from even herself.

Maya started wondering if this had helped lead to her particular delusions while driven ill from proximity to that powerful space warp just a couple years ago.

During a private breakfast (late lunch for him), she decided to share that thought with Tony, even at the risk of some annoyance from him, given her injuring some Alphans and damaging some Eagles, one very badly.

"I've thought about it once and awhile," Tony started saying. "You were driven ill. If not trying to reach your father, maybe you would have found something else to fasten on. Like trying to reach other Psychons."

"Tony, I've long realized my chances of contacting another Psychon were vanishingly small. That was why I was so frantic about Dorzak."

"Honey, I understand."

Then she noticed it again. The last few days, as these long meals and talks had gone on, she thought she noticed something different about Tony. He had not lost his sense of humor, or anything else about the man she had fallen in love with. He had grown. Yet why the funny smile at times where he was not joking or following up with humor?

As they talked, Maya got the impression he wanted to say something more. She wasn't sure why, but he seemed anxious -- though that wasn't quite it either. Not impatient as they talked, for actually, he seemed more patient than usual for this kind of discussion. He could be a good listener at times, but suddenly, he seemed steadier about it, almost like this would be permanent. She had known him to make some permanent shifts in sudden fashion, as when his fading suspicions about her, so many years ago, had abruptly disappeared, and he was defending her not just as a Security Officer, but as a friend.

Still, there seemed to be more, and she must have appeared to be scrutinizing him, for his demeanor only got a little more... something. What was the Terran metaphor? Something about swallowing butterflies, or having a canary in the stomach? Internally, she paused. She had long appreciated that humans liked metaphor as much as Psychons, and they even had some charming animal-related ones too, but some of their metaphors still eluded her.

He had given her much to think about, and she was doing a lot of that -- including now, after Tony had left and she was cleaning dishes before her shift, today away from Command Center, would start.

Yet it was one thing he had asked about, days ago, was troubling her the most. The whole question about Magus -- and how she had seemingly realized, unconsciously, the presence of omega-Magus (Omagus, she thought briefly, her Psychon linguistic tendency to try contracting or compacting phrases into words making one of its now-rare reappearances into what she still couldn't help but think of as 'Alphanglish').

She remembered the electrical shocks delivered via the magnetic field cocoons used by both αMagus and ΩMagus, and shivered at the memory of the outright battering the latter had given her.

The discussions with Tony about possible children sometimes combined in her mind with memories of Magus. Alpha-Magus thought she was compatible with Terrans, but New Earth had brought forth the failures of his grand genetic experiments, so how sure of that could she be? Magus playing with the powers of life, just as Mentor had played with the powers of mental energy removed from consciousness. It was all rather troubling.

Of course, αMagus had been trying to mate her to the Commander. There were combinations Magus was interested in. He had talked about the Commander's "iron will" to Maya's "iron intellect," but those were high-level characteristics. Even if he was telling what he wanted, were there other, lower-level considerations he also had in mind? Did he think she was genetically more compatible with the Commander than with Tony? Perhaps αMagus thought it more likely she could have a child with the Commander than with Tony.

There were no answers there, either. He had tried, had manipulated them -- her. At least he had not known about.... Or had he? She gasped, nearly dropped the last dish, and wondered.

Troubled, she finished the last dish, then called Janina and requested their scheduled meeting for 17.6 minutes from now, regarding the some of the units being constructed for the building project be postponed. Janina gracefully accepted. Maya needed some contemplation -- a very particular kind of contemplation.

She used her commlock to set her room indicator and commlock state to Do Not Disturb state, which did have an emergency override if needed.

She let down her hair, and slipped out of her clothing. This was a unique kind of Contemplation in that regard too. None of her people knew exactly why it helped in this case; but in some ways, perhaps it was not so surprising. She moved smoothly to and onto her bed, then settling into a stable kneeling position, and concentrating.

It took many minutes of seeking both a very deep calm and intense focus to reach the state she needed, to perceive something very, very specific.

More time was spent to focus the subtle perceptions into useful information.

It took all her concentration to not jump out of Contemplation at what she found. She had to correct the problem first. That took several more minutes.

Then, she quickly pulled herself out of her state of deep concentration, very troubled, crossing her arms briefly, then swiftly jumping off the bed, and quickly getting dressed. Maybe she needed to tell Tony first, since it was he who had indirectly prompted her thinking about this possibility. No, she had somehow broken a promise made to Helena and the Commander. It was Helena she had to talk to first.

ο |||| T-1999/09/14, 0820-1010: Main Confusion

Thousands of days earlier, and in a somewhat different timeline, Capt. Bill Fraser stepped onto a moonbase that was in semi-organized chaos.

At first, despite having a fairly major report to make, to whomever was in charge of the base now, he first helped with the injured pilots from his Eagle. Unfortunately, the Moonbase proper seemed to be down to two working pads. One of the non-functional pads had a VIP Eagle which had slid against the docking station, damaging the Eagle and leaving it stuck on the pad. Two other pads were non-operational, one without power, and one that while lit, had not extended a boarding tube or lowered the Eagle, forcing it to wait for one of the two functioning pads to free up.

In Alpha, after helping get pilots to Medical Centre -- Medical Center -- he contacted the new Security men that had just reached here from Earth. A few had arrived first, in an Eagle which had reached Alpha soon after the breakaway explosions, while some others had helped with the evacuation of the Area Two pilots. None had come with replacement commander Markeson, whom they and now Fraser assumed had made it back to Earth. Now, without Markeson, they had tried to find to whom to report, only to decide to report back to Fraser instead. They tried helping out on Alpha, yet as they did so, had also been asking questions to determine who was in charge. These men -- and one woman -- had found out that at least four people on Alpha seemed to be issuing orders: ex-Commander Koenig; Commissioner Simmonds, who had reportedly escaped from confinement; someone from Security Section named Tony Verdeschi, who was apparently the chief; and the second-in-command, Controller Paul Morrow.

Two of the recently-arrived guards reported it was Morrow in Main Mission. The other three apparent leaders were still being looked for, but the guards felt compelled to help with the injured or clear debris. Fraser, feeling like he was still in command of the newly-arrived, confirmed their approach, ordering them to balance priorities as they saw fit, for now.

Frustrated and realizing he was seemingly a fifth point of "top authority" at the moment, Bill left to report to Main Mission. Along the way, he soon met one of the recently-arrived guards, who apparently recognized Bill somehow, and reported an interesting perception that, from what the guard had heard, Verdeschi seemed to be acting on behalf of Koenig and Morrow on behalf of Simmonds.

Politics, Bill thought with irritation. In the middle of one of mankind's greatest catastrophes, somehow politics was part of it.

Bill's commlock was not synched with Alpha's system, but oddly, it refused even an emergency communication, which was supposed to be routed to a Main Mission operative on duty. That left him only able to reach those who had just arrived on Alpha in the last hour. More frustrated, he turned towards Main Mission. If he couldn't figure exactly who was in charge, there was at least a location which was still supposed to be in charge.

Along the way, he could see the people here seemed to be responding reasonably well. Debris had been tossed everywhere, yet some material looked like it had been secured before the blast. People were moving, getting things picked up, working on panels. He made it to Main Mission at last, found it had some dislodged items, and was very noisy, in part from voices and in part some fan somewhere which seemed to be clanking rather madly. He noticed someone he thought was Morrow was presently there, as had been reported. The two security guards Bill thought had gone to Main Mission were apparently not here. Either Bill had misunderstood something or Morrow had ordered them to other tasks.

"Who are you?" the Controller soon asked Bill.

Fraser didn't get to answer, for there were crashing sounds beyond a different, closed entrance, which seconds later, opened, revealing Commander Koenig, in front of a pile of debris he had apparently just broken through, and another well behind him. He had evidently been stuck. He was bleeding slightly from the jaw line, his uniform had a couple rips at the arms, legs, and side, and his commlock was missing.

"What's the status?" the former commander asked.

"I do not recognize your authority," Morrow stated loudly into what turned into near silence as the clanking fan suddenly ceased.

"What about mine?" a familiar voice asked from behind Bill. Commissioner Simmonds.

Suddenly, Bill was in the middle of a power struggle. Why had so many officers/VIP's been scattered about the base? Now, almost everyone with some level of temporary "top" authority, including Bill, had finally converged, and it was not looking good.

"Let's not do this now, Commissioner."

"Now is a perfect time, Mister Koenig."

John turned to Morrow, and fairly evenly but urgently said, "Paul. Status. Deliver it to whomever you wish."

The request was so reasonable that Morrow didn't even look over to Simmonds for permission, but instead down at his desk at first, then between the two men, almost at Bill.

"No fatalities reported yet. Venting from two sections, but with bulkheads already down, no casualties from that."

Morrow paused, putting his hand to his head, and Fraser abruptly realized three things: that they had indeed seemed to be somewhat prepared for this, perhaps saving lives; how rough it still must have been for everyone here; and that maybe it had taken some bulkheads awhile to retract, perhaps delaying the return of Simmonds here. Either that or Simmonds had some reason to wait.

Morrow continued: "Medical reported damage to their facilities. Several injuries are serious or critical. Main Mission Operative Sandra Benes has head trauma, and may need evacuation to Earth as soon as possible."

"What about Earth?" Simmonds ordered. "Any confirmation about going out of orbit?"

"I can confirm that, Commissioner," Bill stated matter-of-factly. "I know the Moon broke from orbit, and last I saw, Earth was a blue dot. I don't know how far out we are at this point, but we've definitely broken away."

"Who has something more definitive or detailed than that?" Simmonds demanded. "Where's that Computer expert, Ouma?"

"He was injured," another voice sounded from behind him. Bill turned to an unfamiliar man of apparent African or Caribbean origin, just walking into Main Mission.

"Kano, okay," Simmonds stated. "Report."

"Verdeschi looked out a window and said I ought to contact Astrophysics. McLeod requested I load up some more generic programs into Computer. They won't give us Eagle plotting immediately, but will give us a better idea of our course in more general terms." Kano -- Bill wasn't sure if that was a first or last name -- moved to the central console in between the three sides of squared-U shape console sets and began punching up things onto the Big Screen.

An electronic female voice began reporting, over the course of three "pages" on the screen.

    Changing variables.
    Partial preparation.
    Initial calculation:
    new orbit around Sun.

    Perihelion between
    Venus and Earth.
    Aphelion uncertain
    but within several
    radii of Pluto.

    Earth return likely
    for some initially,
    but range changing
    fast, others must
    remain.  Medical
    priority suggested.

Main Computer still did not have precise information, but it was more than they knew before. It was, however, something else which drew Bill's question the most. "Partial preparation. What does that mean? I heard something about equations."

That seemed to be the wrong question. The Commissioner started glaring at the Commander (former commander?), while the other looked back firmly. "So what do you think now about your information source?" the first asked the second.

"May have saved us from a worse explosion, propelling us into a worse course, or total Breakaway," Koenig stated.

"So you state. Morrow, call Security -- someone other than Verdeschi, to confine this man. Have them find and detain Verdeschi."

Koenig looked at Morrow, and said, "May I suggest contacting Medical to prepare serious patients needing evacuation to be readied for that."

That forced Paul to look at Simmonds, who said, "I said to call Sec-- okay, call Medical first, then Security. Now!"

"Very well," Morrow said with seeming calm.

"Commander, uh, someone, I have a report," Bill stated, feeling very uncomfortable about this situation.

"Who are you?" Simmonds demanded.

"Capt. Bill Fraser. Just arrived to-"

"Report to the Controller once I'm done here."

"With all due respect, Commissioner, I think this is important."

The Commissioner looked impatient, and that seemed to bring a mildly concerned look to Morrow's face, but Simmonds finally asked on his own, "Very well. What is it, Captain?"

"There were several wings of Eagles bringing more nuclear waste, which arrived not far from Area Two just before it went up. Twenty-seven Eagles altogether. They settled beyond the range of how the pile was, er, was broken up. They were below the horizon of Area Two itself but were damaged. One was pulverized, two crashed, and the remaining twenty-four all damaged and inoperative. We brought the surviving pilots back here. There are still a lot of scattered canisters from Area Two, and the new Eagles."

"Did you see the two Eagles hovering?" Simmonds demanded, seemingly missing the main points of the report.

"They didn't seem to be doing anything other than hovering there, and I think they were destroyed in the explosion," Bill nonetheless reported.

Koenig looked livid -- at Simmonds. "You ordered the shipments to resume?"

"You let the situation with... those two... escalate out of control. They were the danger. Now look where we are," the Commissioner said, gesturing out the windows and up at the Big Screen.

"Two who?" Bill asked.

"Never mind, Captain. That is restricted information."

This was getting infuriating.

Just then, they were interrupted by Main Computer's artificial voice, perhaps started by Kano, jumped in to report.

    Eagle course computed.
    Insufficient time for
    Operation Exodus.
    Medical mission 
    recommended.

    Remainder recommended
    to remain to maintain
    Alpha until full rescue
    possible.

That scarcely interrupted the Commissioner's rant. "Where is Security?"

"On their way," Morrow reported.

"Your actions, Koenig, may have well cost us billions in damage here, and put much of the space program in jeopardy putting the Moon out of orbit."

"Commissioner-"

Bill was getting sick of this -- sick of Simmonds.

"Koenig, this is a complete catastrophe-"

"Commissioner, this is not the place or time."

Just then, two purple-sleeved Security guards arrived, and aimed their sidearms at Koenig.

"You're right," Simmonds said with a bit of a smirk. "A formal inquiry back on Earth in a few days is the right place and time."

"Commissioner, I recommend you check your priorities. We have injured who need immediate evacuation, before either of us, and you're ignoring the Captain's report."

"We will have space on the return, on my Eagle."

The Controller spoke up. "Commissioner, your Eagle was dislodged on the pad and damaged. It is blocking the lift. Two other pads are currently unusable. Our launch window is closing fast."

"Computer estimates Rescue Eagles must be launched in the next ten minutes," Kano added.

As if to reinforce the point, Dr. Russell called in.

"We have critical injuries I cannot properly treat here until damage is repaired. Is an Earth return possible?"

"We have time to launch two Eagles," Paul informed everyone.

"I need two Rescue Eagles."

"Fine," Simmonds started. "Get your patients on board. Pilots, Koenig, myself, and a Security team will be there soon."

"Commissioner, with all due respect, you're taking space away from my patients!" Dr. Russell protested.

"I can sit up front with one pilot in one Eagle, Koenig with one guard in the passenger section of another."

"Simmonds!" Koenig said.

"Move, Koenig. Security, take us to the nearest operational launch pad."

"I think it would be better for you to sort things out here, Commissioner," a new voice sounded.

Bill turned. A man with a purple Security sleeve and very dark hair had appeared -- with a stun gun in hand.

"What? Verdeschi, how dare you."

"No, how dare you." He grabbed his commlock with his free hand. "Verdeschi to Dr. Russell."

"Russell here."

"You are clear to get your patients to the two Eagles and launch."

"You do not have that authority," the Controller protested.

Bill took the initiative to move over to an operative and quietly point out that the last Bill was aware of, two of the Eagles he had been overseeing were probably still on pads. She nodded and contacted them to clear off the pads.

"Do you really wish to interfere with an urgent medical mission?" the purple-sleeved Verdeschi asked the red-sleeved Morrow.

"Guards, arrest Verdeschi!" Simmonds demanded loudly.

The two guards looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Morrow, order them."

"Sorry, Commissioner, the Eagles have become a moot point. You no longer have time to reach the pads."

Bill had no way to know if that were literally true or Morrow was fudging a little. The Controller had little expression, or at least not enough for Bill, unfamiliar with this man, to interpret.

Regardless, Bill's report was still going ignored, so he reiterated it. "What about the two dozen nuclear Eagles sitting near the Area Two crater, and all the other canisters scattered about?"

That grabbed everyone's attention, except for Simmonds, who looked ready to bolt from Main Mission, for one of the pads. Maybe Simmonds was wondering if Morrow had calculated for walking time.

Verdeschi seemed to notice, lifting his stun gun slightly in reminder.

Simmonds stared at Verdeschi, and said, "What happened to the Maya calculation? You trust it now, after what just happened?"

"It?" Tony said.

"I don't think this happened as expected," Simmonds spat out.

"I think that was the point, to avoid the original prediction."

"Which was hearsay."

Bill wondered what a maya calculation was. Perhaps some branch of atomic or quantum physics. Yet who was making predictions? Suddenly, he wondered where this base's Reconnaissance Officer was. Capt. Alan Carter, wasn't it?

"The supposed claim was this would be prevented," Simmonds was stating.

"No, it was reduction," Verdeschi responded.

"Are you so sure?" Simmonds said in a low tone.

Bill had enough. "Sirs, whoever. Is there any danger from new nuclear material sitting right in the proximity of Area Two?"

"Interesting question," yet a new voice sounded.

An older man, whom even Bill recognized was Prof. Victor Bergman, hobbled in with a cane, a dressing wrapped around his left leg, below a tear in his uniform.

"Victor," the Commander said with obvious concern.

"It is alright. Bob insisted I stay put, but I insisted my place is here. Especially after I heard new nuclear material arrived at Area Two even after the existing piles exploded."

Bill wondered how the Professor had heard that already. Someone here must have quietly called him while Bill was watching the argument amongst all the high-level personnel. This place was a mess, but at least it had brought a technical expert here at last.

The Professor looked around at the tense scene and Verdeschi's drawn laser. "Whatever the politics over the predictions and predictors, the new... Captain may have a critical point. It may be wise to get some Winch Eagles to pads again after the Rescue Eagles leave."

"And do what, Professor?" Simmonds asked, almost caustically.

"Get those new waste deposits scattered, to avoid another explosion."

The Commissioner looked at the Professor. "Maybe scattering the wastes is what the... terrorists wanted us to do, perhaps opening up the whole situation, Professor -- despite your earlier words."

Morrow seemed to think the Commissioner's words were an interesting possibility, but then frowned a little.

Even Bill could tell the Commissioner had to find some term to cover whatever the 'restricted' part of this mess was. Suddenly, Bill was recalling the 'female alien' rumour he had dismissed earlier, that she was piloting one of the now-destroyed Eagles. Plus, maybe "the maya calculation" was really "Maya's calculation." Finally, there had been that bizarrely-stated rumour about "equations from the Moon" too. Suddenly, the alien possibility seemed to better explain all the dancing around the references to people.

"Then how do you explain Area One's earlier firestorm?" the Professor finally asked.

"The two Rescue Eagles have launched," a woman with a Russian accent reported. It was the same operative to whom Bill had quietly pointed out the landing pad situation just minutes ago.

Simmonds spoke again. "Is there time to get Captain...?"

"Fraser."

"Captain Fraser's Eagle back to pad and--?"

"Not enough fuel, Professor," Bill interrupted. "For none of the new Eagles or Hawks which have been landing here."

"Nor time," Kano reported. "Computer reports that one minute remains in the window. An Eagle is being raised up each of the two currently functional pads, but there is not enough time to get passengers on board."

"What about with a rendezvous with ships from Earth orbit?" Simmonds asked.

"These scenarios, including sending the Rescue Eagles, already assumed Earth can offer a rescue rendezvous."

"What if they cannot?" the apparently-Russian woman asked.

"If not, then our entire civilization is already in huge trouble," Victor assessed.

That quieted Main Mission for a few moments, until two new Security guards arrived, and pointed their weapons at Verdeschi. He eased his grip on the stun gun and simply held it up in his open and partially-raised hand, surrendering.

"We don't have the same calculation ability we had before," the Professor stated. His calm voice made what he stated next sound even more chilling. "We may not have much time until a new explosion."

Ω |||| W-5042 DAB: Haven

Alibe had dubbed the world Haven. It would have to be a haven, because the Alphans had nowhere else to go. Almost fourteen years after Breakaway, they were dying, and the unerased Omega Ω symbol drawn in the dust on a wall in Moonbase Alpha had become too symbolic of what seemed like their slide to oblivion. If it wasn't a haven, the Alphans who had survived their years in space, and those of their children who still lived, might die on the planet they had finally found.

What was startling, as they left four Alphans from another timeline behind on the Moon, was a faded signal coming over a band no one was currently using -- from the planet. Alien? She wasn't sure yet.

Alibe, sitting in the pilot module of an Eagle as it approached their new world, analyzed it. Yasko was still back on Alpha. Sandra had been dead for years, and their own Maya was unconscious at what had been dubbed Drop Point. An in-flight decision on the first flight to Haven had been to pick the closest point of reasonable temperature, and no immediate threat of precipitation, to drop people and supplies with little pre-amble, sometimes with tents, and sometimes with pods. A better survey, with possible relocation, would have to follow later.

The alternate-reality Alan and Maya had brought two Eagles in nearly perfect condition, minus some slight damage from going through a third reality's Breakaway. The story made Alibe's head spin a little, but the result was golden for Moonbase "Omega" -- as some had taken to dourly calling their damaged barracks.

Alibe was in what had been renumbered Eagle 2. It seemed fitting to rename the one the alternate-Alan had arrived in as Eagle 1 -- perhaps partially in honor of their own late Alan, who had most often flown a ship named Eagle 1. Besides, it was in the best shape too, with only very minor damage. Eagle 2 had lost artificial gravity, had vented the passenger pod's oxygen for no good reason due to a previously unknown design flaw, and had suffered a bent door between passenger and pilot modules after their Maya had torn and bent it while suffering the beginnings of problems of being too near her other version.

Fortunately, all problems with this ship had been fixed in time, even by their depleted technical staff, and with the alt-Alan's help where and while he could. Two of the three problems could have seriously compromised Operation Exodus: the AG problem would have complicated securing cargo, while the venting would have damaged some cargo and prevented carrying people.

The door was at first judged a nuisance and minor safety concern, until alt-Alan had pointed out it was far more likely to be repaired on Moonbase. The door had to be torched out to even separate the pilot module, and the separation made the door and frame assembly almost trivially accessible. Planetside, it could be a long time before the single repair rig they intended to ship -- in pieces -- could be reassembled. So they had replaced the door. Fortunately, they had extras, salvaged from other, damaged Eagles in the past. The repairs had been done, barely in time for the first launch of Exodus.

Those two Eagles had intact pod-release systems, and the Moonbase still had some surviving extra pods, which had been frantically loaded with people and equipment to drop. Luckily, over the various flights, they actually get more supplies off base than first expected, perhaps even most equipment. Parts of the base not already shut down were now closing. Their own two sad-case Eagles -- now with Eagle 3 and 4 callsigns -- were still to make their last flights of Exodus. Eagle 3 was the better of the two. It and Eagle 1 were still on Moonbase, receiving their final loads of supplies and people. Eagle 4 was the worst off, and was currently limping back towards the Moon, having completed its last delivery to Haven, and to be left with the four alternate Alphans.

The four doppelgängers -- John, Helena, Maya, and Alan -- could not settle Haven. Two of them, John and Maya, would likely die, along with their doppelgängers. The two Mayas already showed the worst signs, but most felt the two commanders likely would follow.

Those four would remain in only a small part of Alpha left functioning, and with scarcely that much equipment. That central part, with Command Center, a few officers quarters, other rooms, and some supplies, powered by the only Nuclear Generating Area which had still been functional, and kept livable by the emergency core-section Environmental System.

It was enough for them to hope to survive to the next system or find some way back to their own reality, Alibe supposed. It was sad, but Alibe understood the choice.

That was behind her, however. She wished them the best, but there was a lot to focus on in front of them.

Alibe tried to enhance the unusual signal from the planet filling their view as they approached the atmosphere. This Eagle actually had the best-functioning sensor package of the two, though Eagle 3 did have some of the upgrades Maya -- their Maya -- had added over the years. Eagle 3 overall, however, was not in good shape -- and was not here now.

Haven was a pretty world, for the most part, a mix of similar to Earth and different. It was blue, white, and orange -- the last not from desert but a narrow band of tropical area that was presumably dominated by some orange-leafed plants. They were heading towards more of a region in a transition zone between tropical and plains. For whatever odd reason, this world seemed to lack deserts, but did not lack in snow and ice cover at the poles, far more extensive than on Earth.

Drop Point was twenty kilometers from the largest ocean, and situated among some hills alongside a significant river whose source was far to the north, near the glaciers. The perhaps-temporary settlement and that river were still well below the horizon as her pilot approached the planet.

Looking up for a moment to stretch her neck muscles, she caught sight of Haven's larger moon, which for the moment was temporarily designated Haven-B. Much smaller than Luna, it was only just large enough to be spherical in shape, but with roughly the same albedo as Luna, albeit without maria, instead just having lots of craters. It circled at roughly the same distance as the Moon had from Earth years ago.

Haven-C was a much smaller, irregularly-shaped moon, orbiting much closer to the planet. Alibe wasn't certain where it would be at the moment.

Haven itself had a 25-hour rotation rate -- Operation Exodus being so rushed that Alibe had forgotten the exact figure mentioned in an urgent Command Conference. The rate of revolution, she could not recall at all.

She tried to refine detection of the faint signal, but that was proving difficult. It wasn't coming from Drop Point, but from where, she did not know. There had not even been time to lay three or four orbital satellites to keep conversations continuous. That would have to come later, as they settled in -- or might not be necessary, if Drop Point or some other single location became their only settlement.

She called up Paul, the currently-ranking officer on the planet. He was a sad case. Back on Alpha after a years-long disappearance, and an equally puzzling re-appearance with Prof. Bergman, David Kano, and Tanya Aleksandr. Kano and Tanya had died in two subsequent incidents. Paul had returned to find Sandra involved with Alan, only for both Alan and Sandra to die in the same alien attack which had killed Kano as well, against nameless aliens dubbed Zalkers after a word they were heard to utter frequently, in a language no one could speak.

Paul became quickly disillusioned after this and during Alpha's downward spiral. When Tony and Helena were killed in a separate incident, Paul was in such bad shape psychologically, the officer corps so severely depleted, Victor's health starting to fade, that Maya had been made the first officer. There had been surprisingly little protest, either because of her having proven a worthy Alphan for years, or just out of the general weariness which had set in. Bill and Alibe eventually had become junior officers afterwards. Few had even tried to step up any more, with only Leann Picard and then Smitty recently becoming new junior officers.

Moonbase "Omega" had been dying in so many ways. Alibe herself had been going through the motions for awhile. Haven had given them new hope -- the first real hope in years.

The Professor had rebounded a little too, and as Alibe gave her report to Paul, Victor stated, "If there are aliens here, there is not much we can do about it now."

"He's right," Paul stated. "We're committed. We'll put up the satellite net later, and see if we can triangulate."

It was an ominous start to their life on the world Alibe had ended up naming, thinking they had no choice but to settle on a planet from which an unknown signal was emanating.

ο |||| W-1999/09/14, 1020-1137: Who's Panicking?

Capt. Bill Fraser was still mostly just standing around in Main Mission. So much was happening around him that he only half understood. He was still somewhat bewildered by events, especially since so little had been explained to him. He sort of felt useless, and frustrated that his concerns were still largely ignored.

He had finally been approached by someone in Service for his spacesuit, but had refused to remove it, thinking he should be out there soon, to try and further disperse the surviving and newly-introduced nuclear material away from the crater formerly known as Area Two. That was not happening -- not so far.

Koenig and Verdeschi had been led away, and two guards who had refused to take action against them had been relieved of duty by Controller Morrow.

Meanwhile, Bill had found out Capt. Carter had taken ill with some sort of intense nausea and was unconscious in this base's Medical Centre. No one in Main Mission had talked to pilots in awhile, so with permission of the Controller, Bill had contacted Reconnaissance and gotten a clearer picture of Recon's status, and advised them to put Winch Eagles back on stand-by.

He was frustrated with the lack of a higher-level decision, but having the Eagles turned around and readied for flight again, as rapidly as possible, was something Bill felt he could order.

It was clear to the Captain that the Commissioner was a politician, who presumably knew how to run a Commission but was out of his depth running a base, especially in a crisis. Even after he had seemingly accepted the fact he was now stuck here for what Computer was estimating as months, in the solar system, until a full-scale rescue stood a chance of reaching them, he still had not seemed to re-focus his priorities well.

"We are receiving a signal," the Russian woman, named Tanya Aleksandr, as Bill had found out, stated. "From the ILC, or maybe WSA. High power but low data rate. It will take a few minutes for Computer to assemble the full message at a usable listening rate."

"It's about time," Simmonds growled. "Which one? Never mind. Lock on. After we hear their message, I must send a communiqué regarding our status and what our next move should be." Bill was at first surprised this was even possible at this distance, but then recalled Alpha had been developing the so-called "Interstellar Strength" system, and had made a breakthrough not expected for years yet.

"Our next move should be getting the new nuclear material away from the Area Two crater," Prof. Bergman stated.

"You have demonstrated your judgment already compromised by recent events. I will seek advice from Earth."

"It has been hours, and we already have significant light-time delay," Bergman nonetheless pointed out.

"I don't need a lesson in simple astronomy. We can ill afford to take ill-considered actions."

"We can ill afford the delay, Commissioner," the Professor stated in a calm voice.

"We can ill afford rash, panicky actions," Simmonds stated in a raised voice.

What no one needed to say was the Professor hardly sounded panicky. He retained his calm even as he continued....

"Commissioner. Paul. At least send out a robot Eagle to gather readings. No one has been out there since Capt. Fraser helped rescue the pilots."

This was finally agreed upon. The Controller broke out the remote control unit, and seemed ready to use it, but Bill stepped forward. With so much missing and messed up command structure here, including an injured Technical Officer still on base, an ill Recon officer recovering in Medical, and an operative so injured that she had been evacuated, Bill felt the last thing this base needed was a further-distracted Controller who might be able to keep the Commissioner in check -- even if it was unclear if the Controller would do this. So Bill offered to take the controls. Morrow accepted.

The Medical Officer appeared in Main Mission.

"Dr. Russell," the Commissioner said in a voice which sounded strangely scornful to Bill, "I thought you left with your patients."

"My primary responsibility is still on base, especially since there are still injured and sick patients here, and might continue since we're marooned for awhile in our own solar system. I sent one of the fellows, Dr. Spencer, with them, along with two nurses. One of the Rescue Eagles has a docking tube."

"And left us with one fewer physician on a damaged base that may not see rescue for a few months?"

"These were the most serious cases, and with our Medical Center damaged and a journey of a few days to Earth, I had no choice."

Her voice sounded rather annoyed too, seemingly with the Commissioner. There had been dying astronauts here, and Bill wondered if there had been some conflict over that situation, between these two.

While they... argued, and while a robot Eagle was ordered moved to the lift and up to the pad, Bill quickly removed his spacesuit to eliminate the bulk while sitting and working the remote unit. He sat down and started synchronizing the remote with Eagle 12.

Bill heard some of the CMO's words as she informed the Commissioner and Controller of the latest. No one had died on Alpha itself. There were twenty serious injuries, and a hundred reports of minor injuries. Capt. Carter was still unconscious, and Dr. Russell's verbal report told Bill nothing more about the "nausea" he was suffering. Ouma, who had suffered a surface wound, was being held on suspicion he had suffered a worse injury elsewhere, internally.

Bill got the Eagle launched and on its way to Area Two. He barely noticed Dr. Russell leave Main Mission, trying to keep his focus on the Eagle controls.

The sight there was ominous, even from a distance. The crater itself, glowing red earlier, had crusted over. However, there we some glowing points scattered on one side of the crater. "What are those?" the Controller asked.

"I think that's where all the Eagles were."

"Approach," the Controller ordered Bill.

Bill eased the Eagle down, and was eventually close enough for the glowing dots to resolve into rectangles -- and then Eagles. They were still fairly intact, but their entire hulls were glowing red, and one was even starting to emit tiny blue streamers.

The Professor was at a Computer console. "Heat levels rising. Magnetic fluctuation increasing. Get that Eagle out of there. We're already too late."

The Commissioner looked a little scared. "Maybe-"

"Commissioner," the Controller interrupted, "we're not going to be able to get the canisters moved out of those flightless Eagles to winch them away."

"Sorry, Paul," Victor started, "it is already worse than that. Magnetic intensity is growing fast."

Bill started lifting the Eagle away, and suddenly, they were visually reminded of another reason. Some of the other canisters on the Moon's surface, split away from the Area Two pile, and beyond what had exploded, also remained. Everyone could now see those 'little specks' on the surface, glowing too.

The Professor shook his head. "It is not just the massive new quantities on the Eagle, which are still only a fraction of what Area Two had, but the large fraction of Area Two we broke out of range of that reduced explosion, ready to flare into a second."

"Fuel to a still glowing fire," Bill said quietly, bringing sudden silence to Main Mission.

Then, without any input from the Commissioner, Controller Paul Morrow reached out and hit the Red Alert button. "Attention! Seal all sections Alpha. Seal all sections. Secure for impact, repeat, secure for second blast. More immediate warning will follow if possible."

The Controller then turned to one of the operatives, saying, "Tanya, is there a satellite in range?"

"We lost a couple satellites but the rest of the net was dragged with the Moon, though their orbits are altered."

"Kano, find one. Fraser, hold. We need eyes on this."

"Found one!" Kano reported, fifteen seconds later. "Centering and zooming in."

"How long do we have the view?"

"At least twenty minutes, but another will be in range."

"Fraser, move that Eagle away: we may need it later."

What could only be compared to static was starting to arc between Eagles and exposed canisters.

No one asked if the bare canisters could be moved. The whole area, now somewhat spread out, had received some new concentrated "deposits" in the form of many Eagles' worth of new, packed material. They would be the trigger. Even as they watched up, outright "lightning" started arcing from Eagle to Eagle, with smaller side bolts starting to hit the individual canisters spread over an even wider area. Some even started hitting the crater, like some unconsumed material was still available underneath the crust.

"No, no," an operative's voice moaned.

"Brace yourselves," the Controller calmly ordered. "Fraser, set that Eagle down now. Attention Alpha, brace yourselves for imminent additional Area Two explosion."

Bill felt time pressing all around as if an ominous drumbeat as he tried to concentrate on the simple task of setting the Eagle down while knowing he was about to get jolted. He barely did, when the Big Screen, watching the satellite feed, flared white, bathing Main Mission.

"Brace! Brace! Brace!"

The jolt hit a second later. They were abruptly accelerating again.

Bill fought to hold onto his console. Someone less well braced went flying.

The Moon was becoming like a spaceship yet again, with three hundred unwilling passengers.

Ω |||| R-5043 DAB: Unloc

The next day, the few commsats the "Omegans" had were laid in orbit of Haven.

Alibe and Pete Garforth, were now 'just' sitting in orbit over Haven, in newly-redesignated Eagle 1, after having released the last of the four commsats. Alibe hunted for the thready signal detected the prior day.

The remaining 116 Alphans from this reality had fully relocated to Haven, along with most of their equipment, as hoped. One Eagle -- the one in the worst shape -- had been left behind on Moonbase, with the four doppelgänger Alphans.

The Alphans were "established" for now at Drop Point, a collection of spare Eagle pods, tents, and the three Eagles, except when one or two were on missions, such as the one right now. Meanwhile, two of the commsats which had functioning cameras -- two visual, one infrared, and one ultraviolet among them -- were scanning the rest of the planet, for a possible more permanent location.

Alibe had reacquired that mystery signal she had found late in Operation Exodus. This time, she found it via Commsat 17 -- still numbered as if it had many more "siblings" than currently. The signal was still weak, but Alibe soon had it on a second satellite. Then the Eagle had it directly, allowing them to finally triangulate it. Intriguingly, it came from another location within the transitional band between jungle and prairie, but about 700km away from Drop Point.

"I have it now," she reported to the pilot. She gave the coordinates, and they started descending. The signal got stronger as they approached the atmosphere immediately above the region from which the signal was originating. Suddenly, Alibe, who had gone through so much of the last few months feeling increasingly numb, and a few days of increasing hope, revived a little more, as she felt surprise shoot through her. The signal had gotten clearer, and....

She looked at the pilot, incredulously. "Alphan origin."

"What? Here? How?"

"I don't know."

They reported it, the Commander started insisting the Eagle return, but Alibe offered that she and Pete Garforth could check it out, cautiously. They were already in flight, and she felt there was no good reason to risk the Commander, or draw him away from Maya given her unknown prognosis.

"Approved, but proceed with caution."

Ten minutes later, they were in the atmosphere, making a mid-height pass over the locale of the signal, trying to find its exact location on the ground.

They did better than that, taking only five more minutes to find Eagle signs. They came in for a lower pass, and found what seemed like a partially-shredded Eagle carcass. It seemed to be missing short slices of its surface structure, as well as short segments of its superstructure, kind of like a food grater had been passed over it, followed by a paring knife. About a hundred meters away was a small structure that looked like a house, and away from that a much smaller one that was perhaps a storage structure. Around all of the standing ship or structures, were things which looked like--

"Is that a series of gardens or farm plats?"

"I think so."

"Who among us ended up out here?"

"I cannot think of anyone not accounted for. Maybe they are more doppelgängers -- or another unrelated mission from Earth."

Pete looked at her with a frown, then shrugged, saying, "We might as well land and check it out."

"I'll try to raise them."

That met no success.

The structure and Eagle were about a hundred meters apart, but both in middle of green plots. There were a few areas which looked more like lawn near the small house, but none were large enough to land an Eagle upon. Something of a forest was to the east and south, prompting Pete to land off to an untended field to the north, as Alibe announced Eagle sensors were recording 21°C, minimal wind, and that they could see was a sunny day. It was later in the morning, locally.

Even as they landed, Alibe could see someone step out of the structure. In the passenger pod, Pete handed Alibe a stun gun, which she accepted simply enough. Caution was in order. She placed it in its holster, and instructed Pete to do the same thing.

By the time they left the Eagle, the person approaching from the apparent house, equally cautiously, was closer. He was not in a uniform, but in some sort of more primitive brown clothing -- but with an Alphan belt and apparently stun gun.

It was Tony Verdeschi.

Alibe and Pete exchanged incredulous glances. Despite their earlier speculation of doppelgängers, it just seemed far too odd.

"Another time traveler?" Pete asked.

"Maybe, but I can't see how it is related to the four we saw. This one has clearly been here for awhile at least."

By now, Tony was close. He wasn't running, which seemed logical for a former security officer, to assess the situation and also not panic those he was approaching. Nonetheless, he looked anxious to get there. "Pete! Alibe!" he called out, smiling heartily. "Wow, we stopped expecting this a long time ago!"

"We?" Pete asked.

"Helena and I."

Pete and Alibe exchanged glances again. This was a surprise. Their Tony and Helena had died in an exploding Eagle after a delayed start to a mission. What were the chances of finding doppelgängers of the same two? Then again, what were the chances of half the events they had seen recently or in the last 13+ -- nearly 14 -- years? It was the same depressing story of being jerked around by a cruel and violent universe, even if this situation was more odd than cruel.

Yet Alibe thought it would probably be cruel to at least one: the Commander. He had gone through Helena's death, drawn closer to Maya as they both grieved, had seen a sort of living 'ghost' in the form of an alternate-reality, younger Helena. Now there was going to be yet another doppelgänger of her.

As if the Commander hadn't suffered a lot of difficulties since Breakaway. It is a wonder he was only white-haired and fatigued, instead of outright insane, after all he'd been dished, Alibe could not help but thinking.

"She is out in the woods gathering some items," Tony was saying, answering a question of Pete's that Alibe had barely heard. "I have to imagine she heard your approach and is on her way back. Our commlocks' batteries died a long time ago." Alpha's former first officer was looking very happy, but that vanished when Alibe asked a salient question.

"Where do you come from?"

Tony looked at her suspiciously. "What do you mean?" he asked.

This was abruptly interrupted when Tony looked aside, and everyone turned to see someone emerge from the stand of trees, at a half run. Dr. Helena Russell, also dressed somewhat similarly to Tony, but with longer hair than she had before, from what Alibe could tell at this distance.

Helena reached them soon. She exchanged excited greetings and hugs with Alibe and Pete, already seeming more lively than most Alphans nowadays. Then she embraced Tony in a way that struck Alibe as more than she would have expected, in a different way.

Tony was smiling, but as they separately, his frown soon returned, and he faced Alibe, asking, "Why did you ask where we came from?"

Helena looked at him, some of the animation fading from her face.

Alibe, the officer on this Eagle mission, decided to break the news. "The Tony and Helena we knew died on board an Eagle about four years ago, and just recently, we've had encounters with time-traveling reality jumpers: alternate John, Helena, then Alan and Maya as well."

It was a lot to take in, and the two looked at each other for awhile. Then Tony turned back to Alibe and Pete and said, "So we were missing in action and presumed dead?"

"Your Eagle exploded, in plain view. Bits of both it and your tissue were found."

"With positive ID?" Helena asked.

"DNA," Alibe stated. "After the supposed death of Paul and the other three, only for them to return several years later, we got more wary."

That gave both the settlers pause, sharing looks at each other that though seemingly appropriate for the situation, were done in such a way of personal familiarity that Alibe again thought they seemed like a couple. Why her subconscious thought that important, Alibe was not certain.

"Then it seems maybe someone took more care to fool you," Tony finally said.

As if continuing Tony's point, Helena picked it up and continued. "Maybe those bits of tissue are these," Helena had said to Alibe and Pete, lifting the sleeve of her somewhat crude yet carefully-made clothing, to reveal faint scars here and there, all a few to several centimeters long, but somewhat narrower. "We both had such scrapes, a dozen or so each on the skin, and scans with medical equipment surviving on the Eagle showed we even lost bits of internal tissue from a few points. The internal ones were not even placed the same as the external ones. It was like the internal ones started and ended completely within us. It was lucky none hit major organs."

"Someone trying to fool you, it seems," Tony reiterated. "Putting on a light show yet also flaying off some bits of Eagle and us to give you evidence."

"But who?" Alibe had asked.

"We don't know," Helena had said. We sometimes speculated we were brought here, and once and awhile felt we were finding needed things too easily. Nice patches of fruit-bearing plants around us. Roots. Easy walking distance to a small river."

"Seasonal variation, but nothing severe that was prolonged so far," Tony continued. "Some animals to hunt. Patches of grain we were able to use and try plowing into what was nice, soft, rich soil. Sometimes we even wondered if we were being watched."

"We sometimes wondered if it was the hand of God," Helena said, expanding on the last point. "But somehow that didn't seem like it, and after awhile, being busy, we stopped questioning."

"Mostly," Tony added, to a confirming nod from Helena.

Alibe still had her doubts. Pete too. He had lost his youthful exuberance during the bitter grind Alpha had gone through. One of the few rumors the embittered Alphans bothered sharing any more was speculation he had drawn the unerased Ω symbol in a hallway. A cynical bent had entered him. That was no surprise. Most Alphans had it. Like so many, Pete had good reason: he had lost his child in one of the attacks. Children, allowed only a few at a time over the years, had not been allowed in awhile, and he and his wife had not been able to try for another. While some parents' children had survived to reach Haven, theirs had not.

So perhaps it was no surprise both he and Alibe still had suspicions about these two. Alibe had shared the information about the exploded Eagle. These two could easily be embellishing on that point. Perhaps their scars came from other sources.

As if picking up on that, Tony explained about an exploratory mission, that the two of them were to go with the main group, but that a medical issue had arisen on base, requiring Helena's attention. Helena explained that part, and that after a delay, they had launched. Tony talked about some feelings of distortions, then what he said felt like being "swiped at by a lion's claws."

"We awoke on this planet," Tony finished. "We were injured, with unusual external and internal wounds, and an Eagle with some eerily 'similar' damage."

The background matched what Alibe knew of their 'death' -- these two suddenly seemed like the ones declared dead years ago. Maybe they were not doppelgängers at all.

"Wait here," Alibe said, then climbed the stairs back into her Eagle. She sent a signal to one of the orbiting commsats to relay. "Eagle 1 to Drop Point."

"Drop Point here," Controller Paul Morrow returned. Despite his psychological issues, he had managed to take back the Controller role with a fair degree of professionalism, one of many on the so-called Omega who either worked through or avoided issues via work. Alibe's mind suddenly flashed the thought that the Alphans now had three former or current first officers. Though Controller and First Officer were different titles with somewhat different duties and patterns, they were both technically seconds in command. Thus, former and once-again Controller Morrow, former First Officer and Security Officer Verdeschi, and current Science Officer and First Officer Maya.

Alpha was a strange place in some ways. It seemed to fit the strange universe they had been flitting through.

"Alibe?" Paul asked.

"Sorry, Paul. We located the source of the signal. It was a damaged Eagle with Alpha Moonbase insignia, and we found a tiny settlement of... Tony Verdeschi and Helena Russell."

Paul just stared. Though still often cool and professional, he had been increasingly prone to severe depression and strange rants, sometimes in the wild-eyed prophet mode but with little success at such. This had become a glaring problem, which after the loss of Verdeschi and Russell, had left the Commander with the next most senior surviving stable officer being Maya. Morrow had remained at the Controller position, which had not kept its second-in-command duties, given there had been a formalized First Officer position.

To this day, Alibe had no real idea of how Paul had reacted to all of this, but had agreed with the move to keep his duties more limited. It was too sad. Yet these he carried out well, out of well-worn practice, Alibe assumed -- mostly.

Now was not one of those moments; but finally, the strange look exited Paul's features abruptly. "Very well," he said. "I will inform the Commander."

Suddenly, Alibe realized a possible reason for his painfully long pause. Maybe he had been waiting in hope Alibe would add that Sandra Benes had been found too. Alibe dismissed that at once. Sandra had not been on that Eagle. She had died at the hands of the so-called Zalkers. Yet with all the doppelgängers and other mysterious occurrences, and Morrow's shaky psyche, perhaps Alibe was still right the first time. Maybe he had been hoping.... Among Alphans where hope had become rare, and so many others did not seem to be following that far behind Paul in the slide into depression, maybe the fact they could still find occasional hope....

Alibe walked over to the doorway to invite Tony and Helena on board the Eagle. They eagerly clambered on board, all at once seeming more lively than just about any Alphan, and assembled around one of the viewscreens in the pod. Finally, Paul re-established the connection, and the Commander's face appeared.

"John!" Helena almost shouted. Alibe could see Helena's face. Incredulity, happiness or even joy, yet a little shock -- the last perhaps from how her husband (Or was it former? Alibe wondered), probably looked even more aged.

"Helena!" the Commander greeted her, but with a mix of seeming happiness and confusion, doubtlessly trying to keep himself in check given recent events with doppelgängers.

"Do we know who they are?" he asked finally, with some weariness to his voice, obviously sharing the first initial doubts Alibe had, especially given all the recent events.

Tony interrupted to ask about Maya, only to be informed she had taken ill from encounters with her doppelgänger, and was still unconscious.

Tony and Helena again shared a look Alibe thought was odd, strained but not at each other -- or maybe it was. A relationship being tested by the return of former relationships, including a marriage broken by distance, time, and a declaration of death.

The emotions, though muted in some ways in a pattern which had become too familiar in the past number of years, did seem a somewhat swirling mix of joy, doubt, confusion, and of course surprise. Yet it was muted in some ways too, in what struck Alibe as yet another echo of Ω, an imprint of people making the motions of life while having difficulty believing in hope or even that they'd live that much longer. Even while the Moon with its base with its bit of graffiti flew further away, the damage it had wrought clung to its survivors.

Haven had greeted them with some new hope, yet one very bizarre surprise and mystery.

Ψ |||| M-1999/09/13: CommConComm

Commander Sandra Benes felt nausea overwhelm her. She started blacking out, still hoping this plan to break the unusual meta-reality would work, and un-"collide" the numerous Sandras and return them to their respective home realities.

She tried to stay conscious, thinking that she needed to stick to the plan for as long as possible. Her consciousness collapsed on itself, random memories suddenly flying around her mind as she became insensate to the outside world. Lost within herself, she tried to grab one stream of memories -- it was almost as if she could picture them as such -- and abruptly found herself reliving another event, from years earlier....

"Okay, then let's break it apart," Commissioner John Koenig said, agreeing with an idea brought up by Janina "Joan" Conway, PhD physicist.

Controller Sandra Benes found herself wishing Professor Victor Bergman were still here, for he might have realized how deeply they were in danger, before this point. Sandra did not doubt Joan's skills, but she had not been brought in early enough, and though she was brilliant, as so many Alphans were, didn't have Victor's many more years of wisdom.

Sadly, a force field experiment gone awry due to a faulty part of a regulator had exposed Victor to a severe shock that had disrupted his artificial heart. His body had been taken back to Earth, only days before Meta Probe astronauts had started mysteriously taking ill.

The CMO, Dr. Bob Mathias, had borne the brunt of trying to research the new problem, until the possibility of radiation exposure had brought Dr. Conway into the picture. In the course of the last two days, they had started eliminating some factors, while still leaving some unusual possibilities in the field -- none of which looked like the problem either.

Now, after Area One flared up, Joan had started speculating maybe it was something wholly unexpected -- and that perhaps Area Two was already beyond critical mass for this phenomenon. She had strongly advised breaking it apart, but had little to substantiate it.

The illnesses had already prompted Commissioner Koenig's arrival from Earth, and despite Joan's lack of solid ideas, except some preliminary speculation on possible magnetic effects, she had managed to persuade both Commissioner Koenig and Commander Morrow, after Area One had gone up. The Commissioner was especially concerned about Area Two being 140 times more massive.

Controller Benes nodded as Commander Paul Morrow gave the order for her to start coordinating a rapid-fire effort to break apart the nuclear material at Area Two.

Sandra had agreed that there were too many problems showing up at once, and that the young physicist's concerns about the disposal areas had merit.

Fortunately, the Commissioner had proven sensible. Though Koenig had something of a reputation as a sometimes easily-ruffled money hawk (occupational hazard?), he seemed to have much more capacity to listen than his predecessor, Commissioner Dixon, and to reason, than Sandra had expected.

Perhaps that was because Commissioner Koenig had once been Commander Koenig, the eighth leader of Moonbase Alpha. His tour had ended, and while it had seemed likely Anton Gorski would have risen to that role, Gorski had gotten embroiled with some cover-up scandal back on Earth that Sandra did not fully understand. Instead, Paul Morrow had been posted to Alpha Moonbase, early in the year.

Sandra had to admit to some mixed feelings about that in retrospect, having quickly felt some unprofessional attraction for Paul Morrow, but not feeling able to act on it. Perhaps it had just been bad timing, so soon after her break-up with Peter prior to the start of her own tour, just at the end of 1998. She had quashed the feeling of attraction as best as she could, and they got along well professionally.

Sandra began dashing out orders for each of the Winch Eagles to launch, and preliminary approach timings and grid plans for each to disperse canisters. She felt calm as she carried out Paul's order and issued orders of her own. Her steely nerves came to the fore as they always did in a crisis, even if this one seemed a magnitude worse than any she had seen.

Unfortunately, only hours later, she and everyone else on Moonbase Alpha found they would need all the nerves of steel they had to survive as a sudden false dawn from Area Two turned that part of the Moon into a massive engine, propelling them into the depths of space, and forever ingraining the date 13 September 1999 into the memories of those on the Moon and Earth.

Ω |||| R-5043 DAB: Ghosts

Two hours later, Alibe and Pete were returning to Haven's Drop Point with recently-found Tony Verdeschi and Helena Russell on board the Eagle.

Part of the delay had been in trying to confirm their identities. Alibe offered what Tony and Helena had told her and Pete, including details of the delayed mission the day of their presumed death that seemed too highly consistent to be a coincidence, and how the damage to spaceship and humans seemed to explain things.

That there was a mild suspicion it was intentional on the part of some alien force or being was brought up.

The Commander had gotten that thoughtful yet wearied look on his face, asking more questions, and trying to sort through other possibilities.

Paul had suddenly interjected. "Don't you see, Commander? The gods would use us for sport while mere mortals fiddled away with half-denials. Who are we to deny their four years wandering in the wilderness wasn't watched from above?"

Curiously, this was one case where Paul might be on the correct track. Only....

Tony and Helena exchanged glances, probably about Paul. Alibe wondered if they had seen the full emergence of this characteristic of his before their... disappearance.

However, the mention of four years had seemed to trigger a question in the Commander's mind about time, Tony and Helena reporting it had been almost two years for them. This triggered suspicion in the Commander, for Tony and Helena should have aged through more years, not fewer than the rest of the Alphans.

Helena and Tony looked at each other, then Helena looked back to Alibe. "We felt highly sluggish for the first several days. Tony joked he felt like he'd just been thawed, and I wondered if we were in cryosleep or something. I still think that is a possibility, but now I wonder if there was a time warp involved instead."

Of course, the Commander had ordered them all to return or come to Drop Point. Tony and Helena had asked for a couple minutes to secure their tiny settlement, only for the discussion to resume for a bit once they were back on the Eagle and it was launched.

John and Helena exchanged more details that started to get a little more personal -- though not very. The Commander still seemed to be trying to confirm Helena was his Helena, but was not talking about anything current.

The more they seemed to grow certain of each other's identities, the more outright joy yet outright discomfort seemed to creep back into their faces or tones. There were some "it is great to have you back" or "great to be back." It wasn't about a return to Alpha but to other Alphans, a tiny sign of increased community rather than lost community. Genuine happiness, yet confusion and awkwardness.

The conversation ceased as Paul interrupted with some report none of those on the Eagle could hear, but which prompted the Commander to end the conversation, albeit with a, "It will be good to see you soon."

Alibe had decided to remain in the pod with them as Pete flew the seven-hundred kilometers to Drop Point, feeling it was wise to keep watch and listen, as nonchalantly as she could, just in case this was some elaborate scheme by some alien force.

Regardless, Alibe resolved not to get into anything personal either. No sense getting into the fact John and Maya had come together in a relationship, one Alibe and others wondered -- in some of the rare discussion people had had about each other the last few years -- was intimate.

Fortunately, neither Helena nor Tony asked Alibe any personal details either. As hungry as they might be for all types of information, they were patient on this regard.

From subtle, probably unconscious little gestures and looks and the two gave each other, the more certain Alibe was they had drawn just as close as well, and thus perhaps knew better than to ask further questions for now. Alibe could imagine it would be a happy yet highly awkward re-introduction.

Instead, they talked about some minor things. Eventually, Alibe asked if the two had named this planet, and found out they called it Unloc -- unknown location.

"It was meant to be temporary," Tony added, "but somehow started seeming appropriate when we couldn't unlock why we ended up here."

"Have you given it a name?" Helena asked.

Alibe laughed lightly, one of the rare times she did anymore. "Actually, I dubbed it Haven, and it stuck. We have no choice but to hope it is one," she ended more cynically. She cut herself off then. The reasons were painful, and these two didn't even know of some of the further blows which had occurred after their... disappearance.

Now, the seven-hundred kilometer journey was ending, and it wasn't long before the two wayward Alphans were greeted by the Commander, who struck Alibe as wearing a very professional mask. Alibe heard Helena gasp, and Alibe abruptly thought maybe it wasn't just over seeing her (former?) husband for the first time in years, but how much clearer it was how the Commander had seemingly aged. He didn't look like an old man yet, but had far whiter hair and deeper furrows in his brow, and carried himself in a more fatigued manner.

"John!"

"Helena!" he exclaimed, some of the mask dropping.

They rushed into each others' arms, but it was a short embrace, before they drew back fairly quickly.

"Where's Maya?" Tony then asked.

"She's had a rough several days, and is unconscious. I'll take both of you there. I think we all know we have a lot to discuss."

As they started walking, they could see Susan Crawford's son and a few other children, playing in the distance. The boy, now thirteen, had grown even more since Tony and Helena had last seen him, but in a still-normal way. He had once been named Jackie by Alphans other than his mother, and had shown bizarrely-sudden growth patterns before it was known the alien Jarak had taken over the child. Other aliens had reverted him to a child, and after all that trauma, Susan had renamed him George, after her late husband's father.

Everyone, including Helena and Susan, had watched for unusual growth patterns, but none had appeared. He did seem very intelligent, however, and had been one of those who had responded most to Maya's teachings in mathematics and sciences, and to teachings from Koenig and others regarding leadership.

Yet he had seemed a normal child nonetheless.

He disappeared from sight for a few moments. The adults only got halfway to the Medical Eagle, however, before George reappeared close-by, stopped in his tracks and stared, his eyes widening.

A smaller girl, Sarah Fraser, happened to run up shortly after. She stopped too, looked at Helena and Tony, and promptly declared, "Ghosts!"

"No Sarah, silly, they were found elsewhere on this planet," George was heard to say, before the eight-year-old girl bolted. "No, not that way!" George, called as he chased after Sarah, catching her arm and taking her another direction. He was apparently acting like a babysitter, understanding security concerns, obeying orders, and keeping an eye on the younger children. He was the oldest, and already seeming like a leader in some ways.

They could hear those children who were surviving, now sounding like they were already thriving, being able to run about the perimeter of the area. In the central part of the area were some randomly-dropped Eagle pods, then some tents set up at greater distance, away from possible Eagle wash if the pods had to be picked up again. A few tents were more interspersed in between, presumably ones which could be quickly struck.

It was just enough of a delay that Victor had a chance to arrive in their area, and greeted them with more joy. A few other Alphans, within earshot or eyesight of the commotion, soon came over to investigate and greet them.

After a few such welcoming delays, John, Helena, and Tony finally got to the Eagle pod.

They were adults, intelligent, and quite aware 2 - 4.4 years was a long time. On Alpha, Helena Russell and Tony Verdeschi had been flat-out declared as deceased, more than four years before. On Haven, Helena and Tony had not seen rescue in two years.

Maya's unconscious condition was explained, Tony touching her briefly -- but only briefly -- while Helena scanned her state. She was still unconscious, in medical pajamas, her hair down. At least she was resting calmly.

They left her to recover, and moved to sit down nearby, John and Helena in two seats, across the aisle from each other, with Tony pulling over a storage "cube" to sit on -- all roughly equidistant from each other.

"We had learned what was edible, most nutritious," Tony was soon saying. "Helena had scanned a lot of possible items and found a good number of edible fruits, roots, and fungi. I was finally managing to get crops going. We had three stun guns and a laser rifle, and some battery power for awhile, enough to let us both make opportunistic game kills, until we came up with some traps, spears, bows and arrows, and such. Nothing terribly brilliant, or we could have done it with less difficulty."

To some degree, their efforts showed. Both were somewhat tanned, and once offered uniforms and the chance to wash up, and had changed, it was clear both had stayed very fit yet apparently fed themselves well enough.

"Two years..." John said.

"Yes, alone," Helena finished. "We never found anyone else. Our Eagle had backup power, but not main power, and could not launch. We've been mostly limited to foot, in order to keep the moonbuggy for emergency use only. Other than a few longer hunting trips and explorations, we've been stuck within a few kilometers of where we awoke in the Eagle."

Tony nodded. "We set up the simplest repeating signal we could, in hopes the Eagle batteries would carry it for as long as possible."

They were adults, but could still dance about the topics -- and did for awhile -- before Helena finally admitted, "Tony and I pretty much gave up expecting rescue after a few months, and the nights sometimes got a little cold."

John looked at her, and said, "Maya and I felt each others' loss, and talked a lot. We drew together, eventually a lot more than either of us expected. Unfortunately, we had found direct evidence of your Eagle, bits of tissue, and confirmable DNA."

"I understand. We were declared dead."

"Where does it leave all of us, especially you and Helena, John?" Of course, Tony was referring to John and Helena's marriage.

There was no answer. It was a broken marriage over the presumed death, and both individuals had taken up new relationships, yet that didn't erase the marriage had happened, however brief, or the relationship which had been in place for years.

There was silence, which then suddenly went on for an agonizing period. No one knew what to do yet. No way to sort out feelings in such a short period of time, especially with it weighing on them that the fourth of them still unconscious and thus also could not participate.

Finally, John looked at Tony and Helena, and said, "We have minimal supplies of our own, but have already gathered quite a few samples of the local flora, and had to shoot some sort of aggressive four-legged mammal with excess fur on the front legs."

"Shagarms, we dubbed them," Tony stated. "They don't seem to be afraid of charging anything smaller than themselves, though we didn't see them that often. They must be more common around here for you to have had to shoot one already."

Helena looked rather relieved in the change of topics. "There's something that was apparently too subtle for the Eagle medical equipment to scan for, but only meat from their limbs can be cooked and eaten right away. The rest of the meat has to be dried first. Their legs are pretty lean muscle, while the rest of it has some more fat content, and there might be something mildly irritating in the lipids which fades during drying."

They soon stepped out, to review two tables of various fruits, roots, and fungi the 100+ Alphans had gathered in the first few days. Tony and Helena soon split off, one to each table, to allow more people to listen to their conclusions on each item: ranging from the highly edible, to the marginally useful, to nutritious items best used in moderation due to some deleterious effects if consumed too much, or outright inedible -- along with a few things flat out not recognized, which was not surprising given the 700km between the two sites.

It eventually ended up being just the three officers alone again, at first outside, but then two following John as he returned to check on Maya. Finding her unchanged, they moved out of the free-standing Eagle pod she still was in, and soon just sat down the same way they had before, all looking at each other uncomfortably, not knowing what to say, or where they might go from here, no one willing to say what might be on his or her mind.

"It sounds like you managed to figure out a lot," John stated.

"Yes, but there's a difference between feeding for two or more, versus more than one hundred," Helena stated.

Tony added more: "We found concentrations of food-ready stuff to gather, catch, or grow, in our immediate area, but if that was all you found in a few days...."

"Perhaps our area is a little richer," Helena said.

"Two or more?" John asked.

Helena's answer was frank. "By our second year, we were thinking we had enough of a handle on this to start raising children. I'm sorry, John, but it seemed clear we were alone there, and Tony and I are both in middle age already, me further along. It seemed like we had plenty of time to feel stuck here, but little time to make other decisions. We recently started trying for that, though to no success yet."

Yet while Tony and Helena looked at each other, it was difficult to miss Tony stealing glances at Maya, or John and Helena at each other.

Finally, Maya began awakening. She was physically a somewhat more restless sleeper than most humans, even at calm periods, even though she got restful sleep. Apparently, Psychons never woke up with an arm that was 'asleep' because they moved or turned very often.

She had been through bouts of such stirrings, punctuated by periods of stillness, and then sometimes occasional sounds of distress, and a few indistinct moanings of one thing or another, sometimes seemingly in English, sometimes in Psychon.

Finally, John, during one such case, and at some urging, took Maya's hand, and after calming, she seemed to stir in a more organized way. At last, she opened her eyes, blinking a lot.

"John," she said softly, focusing on his face first.

"Are you okay?" Helena asked.

Maya turned Helena's way next, then further, to....

"Tony?" she blinked again, closed her eyes, then again opened them.

"I'm here."

She looked bewildered, then looked around, registering the inside of an Eagle pod.

John spoke, drawing her attention back to him. "We're on a planet we call Haven. We found Helena and Tony on this world."

"Our Helena, my- our Tony?" She looked completely bewildered.

"Yes."

"How?"

"They were already here. It is a long story, but we really don't know everything yet."

Maya started sitting up.

"Easy, Maya, slowly," Helena said. "How do you feel?" she asked again, the first question having gone unanswered.

"From our reality? The ones that were... we thought killed?"

"Yes, we're pretty sure."

"We found Eagle fragments. Tissue. DNA."

"We'll tell you what we know or understand shortly. How do you feel?" Helena asked more insistently.

"Tony?" she asked, obviously still trying to get a handle on the situation. "Tony, I am so glad you are safe," she said with a smile that grew, only for her to cut it off and look at John.

"Yes, we're all going to have a lot to talk about and figure out," Helena said quickly, before grasping Maya's shoulders, which got her attention. Helena looked Maya in the eye and asked again, firmly, "Tell me how you feel."

Maya finally paused, started calming a bit more -- in some ways she had been taking this surprisingly well. Her look grew distant, but she started talking. "My head hurts.... My whole body feels a little sore. Something else.... What happened to me? I feel like I have been asleep for days, though I was conscious for a little... but my sense of time is confused."

"You were too close to a doppelgänger of yourself. I think your metamorphic fields overlapped or something like that, I'm guessing."

"Oh.., I think you may be right. There were thought puzzles -- on Psychon I mean -- about what might happen if-"

Just then, Alibe reported a communication from Moonbase Alpha. "The signal is very weak. I don't think you have much time to talk."

It was a quick but haunting exchange, covering a couple of topics rapidly. The status of Maya here at Drop Point. That Tony and Helena had been found as a couple elsewhere on Haven. Speculation about time warp -- time travel on everyone's minds given recent events. A farewell from each side to the other. Static had soon overwhelmed the connection, and that was it.

For nearly a minute, there was silence in the pod sitting at Drop Point on Haven. They were each set on different courses now, and would never know each others' further fates.

Finally, Helena broke the silence. "Maya, you said 'something else' -- what else?"

"I don't know. I feel something is... not... but... I don't know." Her look grew distant again, almost like it did when she would transform. Her outline grew fuzzy, the others drawing back, Helena saying, "Maya, don't-"

But they could see she wasn't, not fully, the fuzziness soon fading.

Maya's mouth fell open in seeming shock. She looked at John, in wonderment and confusion, then at Tony with what seemed oddly like guilt, then at Helena, surprisingly with what looked like... fear.

"What is it?" Helena asked.

"It... how... what? Oh, I swore."

"Maya?" John asked, grasping her shoulders.

"Oh, no. I swore I wouldn't. I didn't. But...."

"Maya, what is it?" Tony asked.

α |||| M-2548 DAB 1610-1705: One Small Answer?

In between two extremes in time, on a Moonbase Alpha little more than a week before the seventh anniversary of Breakaway, Dr. Helena Russell sat in her quiet office, filling out and filing some computer reports, as well as some printed summaries of key points, into paper files, when Maya appeared at her open door, with that troubled look she shared with Helena once and awhile. Sometimes it was about another -- fortunately now very rare -- nightmare, more troubled thoughts about Mentor, or most recently, how she deeply feared she was the last Psychon alive, after Dorzak, and the way the Dorcons had hunted her like she was the only one of which they were aware.

"Come in and close the door, Maya," Helena said simply but with concern.

Helena and Maya were close friends, had been for a long time, virtually since arrival from Psychon. Though Helena had little doubt Maya was confiding some in Tony now, Maya had felt free to confide in Helena for some time. Deep personal trust built from friendship was the only way in which Psychons freely talked about deep personal knowledge or feelings, Helena had realized early on, confirmed later by Maya herself. Bob might have had most psychiatric or psychological discussion with Alphans, but a few people preferred to talk with Helena. That was the case with Maya, who got along with Bob, but had never built a friendship.

Maya sat down, and, with the trust long built up, needed little prompting to get to the heart of the matter.

"I think I know why I dreamt imagery congruent of Magus, why I apparently unconsciously felt Magus -- an alternate -- was present back on Omega."

Helena simply nodded slightly.

"He tampered with me."

"Tampered?"

"Do you recall how I cannot even conceive a child unless I have some special, quiet contemplation, to allow the gametes to remain?"

Helena knew, and nodded. It wasn't even birth control in the usual active Terran sense. Adolescent and adult Psychons, male or female, could unconsciously sense "not self" cells, particles, and chemical, and "out-shift" them, unconsciously. All Psychons had that subtle, partial metamorphic capability to outshift, starting in adolescence, that made them essentially immune to sickness or poisoning from that point on -- that they kept the good food or drink they ingested, the beneficial symbiotic organisms, and such.

However, haploid cells such as eggs or sperm, which only started being produced in adolescence, were new "not self" cells to Psychons as well. At least they were in some "metamorphic" sense that Helena only very superficially understood. In humans, they were still "self" cells in an antigen sense, before combination. Presumably, at the basic biological level, this was no different in Psychons. Instead, it was something in the extra "layer" of molecular transformation that "saw" those cells as nonself. Like with unwanted invaders, they would also be unconsciously "outshifted" -- so automatically that each Psychon had to learn how to allow them to survive, when they wanted them to do so. This fertile state only lasted a few cycles or months, before it would revert on its own.

"Tony was wondering how I had apparently unconsciously sensed omega-Magus, and that got me to considering the actions of alpha-Magus, and my own genetic uncertainty regarding humans. It then occurred to me to wonder about my... state in a more basic manner. So I went into the Special Contemplation, not to activate but just to sense, and I found that I was already in a... fertile state."

"Are you pregnant?" Helena asked bluntly, already knowing a metamorph could know this within days.

"No, I was not," Maya responded promptly and simply. "I have forced the situation to revert, so I am again no longer fertile either."

After a sudden boom in pregnancies after the first few months post-Breakaway, and the realization of some fundamental life support limits, every adult was required to take hormone treatments as a form of birth control. Occasionally some married couples were allowed, on the basis of random drawings, to go off the treatments and try to have a child, based on re-evaluation of current population and trends against the newest life support information and predictions.

The only adult exception to the hormone treatments was Maya. Though her genetic compatibility with humans was unclear, that still did not exclude the possibility of a child. However, at the time, trying hormone treatments on an alien with a few unusual biochemical characteristics, and potential unknowns, seemed unwise. Plus, the metamorph herself presented a startling fact of Psychons that rendered hormone treatments completely redundant at best.

"Nonetheless," Maya continued, "I swore to you and the Commander many years, on the memory of my mother Taylia, that I would not violate your trust over birth control, and I swear I have not. I do not know why-"

"Maya, I believe you," Helena said reassuringly, for Maya's tone sounded almost like the meek, nervous Maya of the first few weeks, not knowing how humans would respond to her. "So you think omega-Magus was aware of the out-shifting, and managed to influence you in some way to shut it off and allow ova to persist?"

"Yes, that is the only explanation which occurs to me. The fertile state only lasts about five months, sometimes varying. I cannot think of another factor."

"What about alpha-Magus? Could he have realized this, back on New Earth?"

"Possible."

"But it didn't occur to you to check after that," she speculated gently.

"No, and there is no way I can determine that now. Unless alpha-Magus did tamper with me then, and omega-Magus did the same recently and I made the unconscious connection."

There was something tricky about the Psychon unconscious, much like there was with the human unconscious, but occasionally in a very alien way. It was difficult for Helena to speculate sometimes, yet.... "Somehow, this makes sense to me."

"It does to me."

"Yet alpha-Magus didn't even remember Psychon molecular transformation immediately. So I just wonder how he would have started tampering."

"It is not widely known about the unique aspects of Psychon reproduction, but I know the Dorcons at least knew or had correctly speculated about some aspects."

"How?"

"It is known they tried to set up a... captive colony of Psychons for mating purposes, to have a steadier supply... of brain stems."

This bit about the Dorcons was news to Helena, and only added further background to Maya's terror a few months ago, on her realizing the Dorcons had reached Alpha. "Oh my God, Maya. That is horrific. Nazi-like."

"Nazi? Oh, I have heard. World War II. Genocidal. Unusual beliefs about genetics."

"The Dorcons 'tried' -- and failed I take it? They couldn't figure out how to force Psychons to allow the forming haploid cells to remain until viable?"

"No, apparently not. But they probably guessed that was the problem. Perhaps alpha-Magus learned of this somehow, and made some guesses based on some of his genetic experimentation experience."

"So as soon as he recalled you were a metamorph, perhaps αMagus... tampered with you back then, and you never consciously knew?"

"Perhaps."

"Or maybe when he was trying to influence all of us. He couldn't take us over outright, but maybe he sensed that in you. Especially since he was talking about offspring. That you knew he couldn't make it happen."

Maya shrugged, but also looked puzzled.

Helena understood why, for she was thinking aloud, and had not organized her thoughts well. Helena thought a bit, then said, "He couldn't take us over, didn't seem omniscient; but he tried bending our wills, could perhaps plant a few thoughts and feelings, and maybe he could hear a few thoughts."

Maya said nothing at first, but nodded slowly, before finally saying, "That seems more logical, but it is difficult to say."

"I hate to bring up other bad memories, but may I ask about Dorzak?"

"Yes, you... oh, I understand. A much more powerful direct psychic. Very rare on Psychon, and I didn't know he had that capability."

"Maybe he acquired it in space. Strange things happen out here sometimes."

"Like the Lambda Variant activating Carolyn Powell. How is she lately, by the way?"

Carolyn had suffered a nearly complete mind wipe, and was like a child in some ways, relearning so much, via individual tutoring; yet still learning just as fast as a child, almost as if there were still some recalled patterns. Helena updated Maya on some of Carolyn's most recent advances, including starting to speak again, even if only a few words. Maya nodded. Carolyn had tried to murder Maya, forcing the metamorph to molecularly transform into a caterpillar, threatening to crush her under heel, then trying to suffocate her inside a small plastic container. Yet the Psychon seemed to hold no ill will towards her.

It was Maya who turned the topic back to Dorzak.

"He pulled the knowledge for full metamorphic abilities out of my mind, and suppressed my will very thoroughly, but had done nothing further. However, if Tony had not gotten that temporary implant, and saved us from Dorzak, it would have just been Sahala, me, and him on board, and he was going to use Sahala to pilot the ship, and well, me.... I'm just glad Tony saved me."

"We Alphans always seem to be saving each other."

Maya gave a wan smile, then frowned.

"Dorzak called me a child, but afterwards, I knew what he might have tried to do, and I checked. He didn't try to affect me the same way Magus apparently had. Maybe that would have happened later. What is sad is that I thought it was children who had to be trained out of assuming they can get everything they want. Who was the child for thinking he had the right to bend everyone's will to his? To repopulate the Psychon people by his methods would have been a wholly dishonorable restart."

"Are you so sure there are no other Psychons?"

Maya sighed. "The Dorcons hunted me like I was the last they knew of. Dorzak apparently managed to get other Psychon ships to come to Norvah. The odds don't look so good for my former people." She paused, then shook her head slightly and continued. "But with first Mentor and then Dorzak, I'm not sure I understand my people any more. Sandra's hints from the Confluence situation she was in gives me some hope, and her words to the alternate version of Eralay, warning her that one person amassing too much power could be deadly, is something I am grateful for. That maybe other Psychons do survive, maybe not in this timeline. However, if there are more Psychons in this timeline, I've been estranged for so long, have seen the worst of my people, twice over. I was given a new home -- and then found it was truly a new home. You and the Commander gave me a new home that day. Friends started making it even more of a home. I think Tony is becoming more serious lately, and I love him.

"If I am the last in this reality, then there is no one else to find. If I am not the last here, then they have their homes, and numbers, and I still have my home now. I love Tony, and do not want to be anywhere else now, but among Alphans. I shall never forget that I am Psychon, and I still mourn for our people's losses, the loss of our planet, and the loss of our way, whether among some or many. There is an empty place in my heart that will probably never be filled, but there were a lot of other empty, lonely places in my heart that have been increasingly filled over the years here, and I hope that continues."

Helena had to hold back a tear. It was almost sad, but so uplifting. Maya's words had turned into virtual poetry, unconsciously. Helena had heard what John had said about Maya's words of farewell to Psyoliyask, Psychon's star, from the surface of Kaskalon not long before the Moon was whisked across a quarter of the galaxy, Maya had spoken quiet, poetic words, only to sob that she wasn't a poet and didn't know the words, when she had just said them.

Poor Maya had known three lives, in a sense: one on a healthy or initially-dying Psychon with many of her kind; one on a moribund Psychon with only her father; and on an essentially-barren Moon with almost three-hundred aliens. She was resilient, but maybe now the only new life she wanted was of marriage and family. After all, just how many radical life changes could one person take?

"Oh, Maya. I know it has been a long road, and that there may still be challenges, but I am glad you found the new home I hoped you would, that I promised you would."

"I can only be grateful you saved me, and you all gave me that home."

"Have you told Tony?"

"Not like that. Not as a whole. I think I should, now. I've not always been the best at saying what I feel. Maybe he's been a little uncertain of me too."

Maya paused, then changed the topic somewhat. "Helena, I need to tell the Commander that my oath to you and him was broken, even through no fault of my own."

"Maya, don't worry about that. I will talk to him. You can talk to Tony, or think more about what to tell him."

"Helena, I-"

"Trust me, Maya, I will talk to John on your behalf, just as you've sometimes talked to a few of us even while treating it as addressing Alphans as a whole."

Maya still looked concerned.

"Maya, it is okay. It was a surprise development, but nothing came of it. We've sometimes slipped, crises or supply problems interfering with the hormone treatments we use. I will explain what you discovered, and he will not be angry with you."

"Thank you, Helena."

Maya left, leaving Helena still wondering a little, even as she brought up Maya's records. She had to note this latest discovery and the possibility something more had happened back on New Earth. For as much as the Psychon's biology was similar on many points, her records certainly had some unique information, and these twists had to be added, of course.

ΩMagus, as he had been designated for clarity, had been sometimes subtle, as his αMagus counterpart, in some ways more, in some ways less.

Years ago, αMagus had somehow gotten into their heads enough to plant very strong suggestions. Not outright control, but very strong suggestions. John, Tony, Maya, and Helena all equally. If αMagus had perhaps known about unique aspects of Psychon reproduction, perhaps he had known equally about Alphan birth control. If so, why try to drive the four together that quickly? To ensure the "pair bonds" were established as firmly as possible? She checked official records from the time. The three humans would have needed a week to over a month for the hormone treatments to fade.

Maybe he did know about the Psychon complication from separate sources, as Maya had speculated. Or maybe he just wanted them all mated as quickly as possible. It probably would have happened that night on New Earth, too, Helena recalled. Whatever mental influence Magus wielded was apparently very strong on this point. Perhaps because reproduction was such a strong drive of lifeforms, rooted deep in the sentient unconscious, that he could force this more "easily" than bending the conscious will. Overwhelm the target with deep drives, redirected. Or at least that one drive. After all, as a genetic experimenter, the sooner he could get his subjects to mate, the better, so he had probably figured out much about that instinct. Helena shivered. Magus still gave her the creeps.

Suddenly, Helena recalled the timing of events on New Earth. He had driven them to kissing, just before being interrupted. It was later that Maya had become an owl. Magus had caught her in that form, had not initially recognized her. Then, on his subsequent appearance, he had admitted to having forgotten about Psychon "molecular tricks."

Maybe the moment he appeared that time, finally recalling Psychon metamorphic abilities, and probably remembering that other side effect, he was digging into that part of her unconscious, all but unnoticed by her, even as she earlier used a scanner to find out something about him, unnoticed by him.

Obviously, he would still have wanted Maya mated to John, at some point. He would have kept wielding the same influence he had used that one night, until he got his way, most likely. Fortunately, the four of them had prevailed soon enough.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Helena couldn't be absolutely sure of much of any of this, but it added up better now. Helena now little doubt αMagus had "tampered" with Maya years ago, at a very unconscious level, and that this was why Maya had dreamed of imagery congruent with Magus back on "Omega." When ΩMagus had tampered with her, at a very deep level, Maya's unconscious recognized this from prior experience, and had tried to inform her subconscious or consciousness in a way the unconscious did often act: imagery, in this case delivered via a nightmare.

Even not realizing αMaya was on ΩMoonbase at first, it seemed it was something he was somehow 'broadcasting' continuously to "Maya" -- and that there had been were two on base was completely irrelevant.

It was something to add to the already weighty and still in-progress report on what was being dubbed "Transfers" after something Victor had pointed out soon after everyone had returned. Helena would also have to re-open the main New Earth incident report for an addendum.

Space may still be filled with mysteries, but it felt satisfying to solve some of them too.

Ω |||| R-5043 DAB: Lost Oath?

Maya seemed shocked by something she wasn't conveying to the other three present: the somewhat aged-looking John, and Tony and Helena, recovered from elsewhere on Haven. Fragmentary sentences spewed from Maya's mouth, until finally, a complete sentence emerged.

"I think I should talk to John first."

Abruptly, Helena knew exactly what it was. The series of expressions, the reference to having sworn, the timing. Helena felt shock herself, a flash of feeling betrayed, despite grasping, on the surface at least, that things had changed, and knowing it for herself from the past few years. Then it passed, for the moment, though she still felt empty, maybe even hurt at what fate had delivered.

It wasn't going to simplify the situation among the four of them, but it might as well get into the open.

John and Tony beat her to the punch. "You're..." John started, before cutting himself off, but that left the opening for Tony to complete the thought, blurting, "Pregnant?"

After more than a decade of wondering if she was genetically compatible with humans, the question had been answered, but not in the way she had expected. Not within marriage, not even having done the Special Contemplation which would allow the gametes to remain rather than being out-shifted. She had been sleeping with John for almost a year, but had apparently become fertile at some point, and she did not recall having put herself in such a state.

This occasion would have one of joy, in any other way. Now, though, she was in emotional shock.

She could still feel the other. She had felt something was different, had instinctively started a transformation to better understand this vague feeling, and had discovered there was something to protect as she transformed. She could have transformed safely, but had no reason. She had found the cause of the strange feeling: there was another metamorphic field starting to form within her, as a fertilized cell continued dividing, on its way to becoming an embryo. She was carrying a child.

Yet she had sworn on her mother's name that she would not make herself fertile until there was permission, given a system of rules on birth control on Alpha. She had not done this. So why had it happened?

She shook her head, bewildered and a little scared. They were on a planet. Tony was back. She was pregnant, by John. She had seemingly broken a rule, become pregnant when no other Alphan woman had been allowed to do so in years. Her life was completely transformed -- again.

"I swear I did not do this. At least I don't recall. I don't know how. Taylia my Mother, I'm sorry, I don't know why-"

"Maya, calm down," Helena finally said -- ordered, really. "I don't want you reacting in some way where you could lose the child."

"What?"

"You're a metamorph, and with your ability to outshift, I-"

Maya's eyes flashed angrily. "I would never harm my child," she said swiftly, her tone shocked yet very stern.

Helena pulled back slightly, then said, "That isn't what I meant. I remember what you said about how Psychons eliminate not-self cells, and needing some sort of calm contemplation to allow-"

Maya's anger was replaced quickly by fear, a brief memory of her first attempt to swear to abide by Alphan birth control in her natural Psychon way had been to say she would understand if they threw out of an airlock if she disobeyed. She did not fear this now -- wouldn't have even if there were airlocks handy. She was concerned about other consequences, not just over rules but social possibilities Maya couldn't even contemplate at the moment. "Helena, John, I swear I did not do that. I cannot even imagine trying to bring a child into our dying Moonbase. I do not know how this happened."

"I believe you," John finally said, and Maya felt some relief. Helena then nodded, saying, "So do I."

"So how? Why?" Tony asked.

"I don't know. I will try to recall if I ever heard of this happening to other Psychons."

Maya realized Helena had still not explained her earlier statement.

Apparently so did Helena. "It was just that if you didn't do the contemplation, maybe you're missing some other things you need to do that are unique to a metamorph."

"No, the most major thing is needing to... 'protect' -- I will try to come up with a better explanation -- the child metamorphically, when I actually transform."

There was then long silence.

"Now what?" Maya then quietly asked.

The four all looked at each other.

α |||| W-2550 DAB 1500-1640: Long Road

For a different, younger version of Tony, it was another delightful date with Maya, out for an Italian meal at one of the moonbase restaurants.

"Italian Tuesdays" had started out as nothing more than an alliterative joke, to parallel that there were then-new "French Fridays" at one of the cafeterias. Yet an Italian had decided to turn the joke into non-joke. Italian Tuesdays had lasted for a year before it spread to other nights, then became permanent. There were so many Italians on base, and so many fans of the food, even if some of the real ingredients were missing or "pseudo-" on Alpha, that it was now simply the base's Italian restaurant. Even Tony worked as an occasional guest cook.

Tonight, though, he was definitely a "guest" -- along with Maya, who was wearing that dress he had always thought was the most stunning on a woman who certainly made any clothes look great. It was her Psychon dress, which she occasionally wore on a date. That she had chosen this, on her own, on this particular date, was a remarkably nice coincidence, he thought.

The talk over the meal was occasionally in stretches of Psychon or Italian languages, as they were wont to do, practicing their respective first languages, for the other to continue learning. He had even finally asked to learn her written language. She had linguistic skills he could not hope to match, yet he learned fast too -- since some mysterious linguistic gift arrived at some point early in Alpha's journey.

Still, much of their conversation now settled into Italian, with some English or Psychon admixed. The discussion itself again varied widely, from the lightest to the deepest.

Maya eventually started talking about some startling realizations about Magus. For the first time, he heard something extremely unique about Psychon reproduction, something that he realized she had told Helena and John in a confidential manner, about how she could comply with the birth control requirements -- and had been since her arrival to Alpha. She had always been full of surprises, and in this case a very clear reminder she was still an alien. Yet he thought he handled it well, his responses both serious and light, and not the least bit concerned how strange a revelation it really was, or that he just didn't find it that strange anymore. Surprised, yes he was. Amused, a little. Fascinated, definitely. It was, after all, Maya.

When she transitioned to how this was relevant to the realization of ΩMagus, regarding the question he had brought up, that she now had a likely answer, then he ceased to handle it well, not angry with her but rather Magus. He cursed in Italian, angry at just how far Magus was willing to go, that his Maya had to suffer even further indignity at his hands.

It was a foul curse Tony uttered, one Maya did not know, and he was pretty sure no other Italians were present, but Sandra, across the room, looked at him questioningly, which disappeared as soon as he noticed her.

"That bastard had no rights to be messing around in your head -- in any of our heads," he then told her more quietly, in Italian still.

"No," she responded in the same language. "He was like a child in some ways, thinking he could get anything he wanted."

"The universe, filled with ancient beings, and petulant children, and the two sometimes overlapping."

"Like Dorzak," she said bitterly.

Tony had not expected that, even given their prior conversation about them. When he dug, he soon found out that Maya had compared Dorzak to a child while talking with Helena.

Eventually, a couple lighter or less bitterly deep topics later, they left the restaurant and found themselves slowly walking, hand in hand, the long length of the decorated Undertube 1, with its painted images from Earth that had been added over the past couple of years. Upon reaching the short stretches of images from Florence (Tony being the only Italian from that city) and from Psychon, Maya reached out to touch the paint of the Psychon scene. "I miss this, what our planet and people once were. I don't know if any of the other people still survive, or if any found a new planet. I hope so, on both counts."

She turned to look directly at him, then continued. "I am a Psychon. I always will be. Yet I am also Alphan now, and that feels much more important to me now. This is my home, with you and your people -- our people. Despite lack of full acceptance, I feel I do have a place and a life here, among friends. The course of my life has had many radical transformations, but now I'm hoping for just some more basic ones. My place is here, Tony."

He almost wanted to cry. It was so sad, yet so happy too. Maya was so warm and vivacious overall that he sometimes forgot she had some depths of sadness to her that he rarely saw. All those not born on the Moon had suffered losses, and Maya was no exception.

That her words on homes past and present had, in many ways, mirrored his thoughts after waking up from that nightmare ten or so days ago, was startling yet gratifying. Somehow, it felt just so right, like they had just met at an even deeper level.

Suddenly, something seemed to melt in him, like some fear he had never consciously considered was fading. Maybe it was that he feared that her fevered attempts to return to Psychon, from when she was dangerously ill and he not around, mirrored some other patterns of her thought. That in the end, maybe she still really wanted to leave. Now, it seemed this had been a fear of his that he had not fully realized was there, but that now, it was fading as he heard her say, for the first time outright, that she wanted to stay.

Tony reached for Maya's hand. They were almost at the far end of the Undertube from his quarters, but he did not turn around. He wanted to get there sooner. Though two of the four bicycles eventually constructed for riding here were sitting close by, he ignored them too. Instead, he silently guided her to a stairway, up to the Travel Tube level proper, and to the nearest call point for the conveyance. There would be other days to walk and jog and bike among the scenes from their old homes.

Ψ |||| "Late 1999": Paths

It was something of an irony that one of the first things Controller Sandra Benes had expected to see in deep space since Breakaway was one of the last: an actual alien spaceship.

Earlier, they had encountered a planet the computer had designated Terra Nova, a name which had turned out to be too "optimistic" of Main Computer. An entity resided there which appeared to be Lee Russell, lost husband of Dr. Helena Russell. The latter was the Chief of Staff of the prestigious Cleveland Clinic at the time of what was now being called Breakaway.

Lee Russell seemed to be a survivor of the long-lost 1994 Astro 7 mission. He had been presumed dead for years, according to records. Only as the Alphans -- they were starting to think of themselves by this name -- found, perhaps he really was dead, for scans of him were strange. Dr. Bob Mathias dispassionately insisted that whatever 'Lee' was -- or had once been -- he was not human now.

That added to 'Lee's fervent warnings to stay away from the planet, had put a damper on ideas of trying to colonize Terra Nova. Commissioner John Koenig, having taken up an advisory position, had strongly suggested the risk was worth the potential benefit. He had met 'Lee' as had, on a separate interview, the second in command, Sandra Benes.

Where Koenig did not seem put off by the warnings of this being, Sandra felt a chill in his presence, especially knowing of the medical findings.

She had sought out Paul privately, and had informed him, as his second in command, that she felt strongly that the warnings of 'Lee' should be believed, that even if he was not human -- or especially if he was not human and had been 'sent' to deliver a warning, that said warning should be heeded, regardless of Koenig's advice.

Commander Paul Morrow was a fairly reserved man, but she could sense there were strong emotions under the surface. He was very different than Commissioner Koenig, who made little attempt to hide his feelings yet seemed to have a solid sense of things. Yet she trusted her own instinct on this, and was gratified when Paul, whether from her words or his thoughts, had chosen to stay off Terra Nova.

He had taken some heat for this decision, but had insisted on his way. Koenig had tried to push some, in Command Conferences, but in the end respected Morrow's decision, even if he seemed unhappy about it.

Sandra was finding herself feeling more respect for Paul than she already had, finding him a basically calm, reasoning man. She had even found some growing respect for Koenig, who she had not really known before pre-Breakaway events had brought him to Alpha. He had pushed harder, yet respected his own and Paul's respective places.

After that, someone had brought up the topic of the dozen pregnant women on base. ILC rules would have had them returning to Earth at the end of their first trimester, though there had been some discussion about extending that to second trimester. In all the prior years, there had been no ill effects to the babies born on Earth to women who had been on the Moon for their first trimester.

Breakaway had blown that schedule away. There would be Alphan children, the first being the child of one of Alpha's married couples: Jack and Susan Crawford. Someone brought up, in Command Conference, the possibility that some couples might choose to conceive a child post-Breakaway. The officers all agreed would be rather irresponsible, as would the possibility of some couples simply getting careless. At first, the officers had been dismissive this would be more than a few cases, that Alpha's various life support factors could handle a few. Besides, a few tactful but clear reminders about responsibility could be in order.

Yet Sandra had expressed concern that it might not be this simple. She had nothing concrete, however -- just her feelings this could become a problem. At the next conference, the CMO, Dr. Bob Mathias, had indicated he'd brought up the topic with his staff, and that one of the doctors had shivered at the idea of someone thinking of having children on Alpha.

By the time Sandra heard this, though, she had thought that on a runaway Moonbase, some might already feel time ticking away on their chances of having children. Whether this was conscious or unconscious, some might act more on that -- perhaps not even intentionally. After all, it was likely there were many existing or new couples finding comfort in each other's arms in their difficult situation -- and responsibility might not be their first thought. In fact, it might be an after-thought for too many. Plus, there might be a few trying intentionally.

The more she thought about it, the more insistent Controller Benes got. She could be firm, and demanding. Paul was not easy to sway here, but eventually, the CMO threw his weight behind her concern, and the officers finally agreed to a system of general birth control but with allowances on a relatively frequent but carefully controlled and calculated basis, depending partially on the rate of personnel losses and ability to repair and increase Moonbase's various systems collectively called Life Support. Amongst themselves, the officers were guessing allowances might even start within months, unless there were already a lot of new pregnancies.

The base-wide reaction to the edicts was highly mixed, and a few couples were indeed found to have conceived children post-Breakaway. Yet on the whole, having caught this possibility relatively early, it seemed to work out well to not have to be draconian about it, and still leave almost immediate hope for more.

Paul had high praise for Sandra, and it was clear he was seeing her as a worthy second. That both warmed her heart and strengthened her always-present resolve to do even better. She had long been determined to reach command of some kind. Breakaway had suddenly limited her chances, but being a permanent second in command to Paul was not a tragic outcome, she was realizing.

The next encounter had been even stranger, with a black sun. Mike Ryan, a pilot to whom she had felt some attraction but had kept herself away from, died in the first signs of its presence. Dr. Joan Conway, a brilliant but relatively young physicist, had tried recovering some of the late Prof. Bergman's force field studies in faint hope of putting up a stronger version of one of Bergman's force fields.

Even Conway had admitted it wasn't real hope, but Commissioner Koenig had advised it be tried if possible, to give some little hope to the masses of other Alphans. However, she was simply too far behind the curve.

There was little alcohol, official or even unofficial, on Alpha, but a medtech tried mixing some with some pills a few hours prior to plunging into the Black Sun, but fortunately she had not done as good a job disabling her medical sensor as she had thought.

This had disturbed Cmdr. Morrow, who then came over the loudspeakers with a surprising speech on hope, fate, unexpected destinies, the need to struggle even in the face of hopeless odds, in hope that it would still succeed, or to provide hope, and then to accept one's fate. He had ended saying he felt Alpha's destiny was not to die here, but to live on.

With Main Mission mostly abandoned as Cmdr. Morrow dismissed most personnel over the next hour, Sandra had insisted on staying with Paul, and they had shared some thoughts just before the Moon plunged in. He had admitted he was no prophet, as much as he had admired the possibility one could find some sense of the future. He stated he had said words he thought would give some final hope, to remove a little final despair, that he wanted his people to go in thinking they could live. He had held her shoulder protectively, which she had taken as being in an almost fatherly sense at the time.

After they had extraordinarily survived, and even the Lifeboat Eagle had mysterious reappeared, some things had felt different. It seemed Paul's hope had some truth to it. He seemed to soak that in, but Sandra mostly missed that, for she was starting to think that maybe his arm around his shoulder protectively at the time was in another sense.

Suddenly, that had her thinking more and more. After a week of such increasing hope and interest in Paul, she had made a small move. Though not outwardly responding at the time, he had made a bigger move a few days later, and she had accepted.

Suddenly, the Commander and Controller, first and second in command, were quietly dating, though as time went on, she had little doubt others could notice. What would have been unthinkable to her on Earth -- what she hadn't even considered in Earth orbit -- was possible on a Moon flung into deep space. After all, it wasn't like they could meet peers or civilians not under their command, anymore. What choices did that leave Alpha's officers? Little.

Away from this, however, what nagged at Sandra -- at all Alphans -- was whether something had happened inside the Black Sun. They had a feeling something had to have happened.

Later, there had then been an encounter with a probe the size of a large asteroid or small Moon, claiming to be from an alien intelligence.

Paul had demanded it turn its attention back to its homeworld, to use its full abilities back in that direction. Much to everyone's enormous surprise, including the probe's, it discovered its makers' world was gone, and its makers not responding.

The crisis had been dealt with. Sandra had wondered about why Paul had made this demand, and what she got should have puzzled her. On one hand, it seemed he had made a desperate ploy, but on the other hand, he seemed to believe he somehow knew to ask.

But she was feeling deeper in love. Her relationship with Peter had broken up well before Breakaway, there had been nothing afterwards, the attraction to Mike Ryan having been short-lived and not acted upon. The loneliness in the cold of deep space was strong, as were her growing feelings for Paul. Instead of questioning him at further length about Triton, she had found he wanted to kiss her, and she had found she wanted the same, and more, and that he wanted even more, and she wanted it too. That night, they had made love, and suddenly, the cold, lonely universe seemed like a warmer, more sensible place.

Now, in Main Mission, they shared a look at the curious sight on the Big Screen. It was a bulbous affair of a ship, with two oblate spheroids, if not more, joined by a graceful neck of a central stem. Its movements became erratic, yet still with a strange grace, as it landed on the Moon, some kilometers from the base.

Paul left with Science Advisor Lew Picard, and Dr. Mathias, while Sandra monitored from base.

The aliens seemed to be preserved but dead. After the status had not changed for awhile, the Alphans tried to pierce the container of an alien male, to disastrous result: alien circuits blew, and he was incinerated. The five other aliens awoke shortly after, but fortunately, their captain, Zantor, calmly declared it an accident, and they, called Kaldorians, were invited as guests to Alpha.

So accepting were the Kaldorians, whose ship had found the Moon despite Breakaway and could find Earth, seventy-five years of travel away, invited the Alphans to choose someone to return.

A computer lottery was arranged. The command corps were not in consideration for it. Commissioner Koenig had immediately withdrawn his name. Controller Benes privately doubted Main Computer would have chosen him anyway, for he was proving helpful as an advisor, and for having volunteered his skills as a pilot. Main Computer, searching for those with the most minimal roles in Alpha's survival, chose a casualty of a prior attack who had not been able to return to any duty.

Sandra had suggested anyone who wanted to send messages to any potential descendents or other relatives who might be alive. A summary of Alpha's experiences so far was included, with a full roll of survivors and losses, and a summary of the Kaldorian encounter so far. That man would return to an Earth three generations after 1999, but would return as a representative of Alphan survival, and carrying further stories of such.

α |||| W-2550 DAB 1640-1710: Letter Home

Tony and Maya's trip through the Travel Tube felt, as usual, short, but even shorter now. They spent it silent, just holding each other's hand.

When it arrived, he guided her the rest of the way to his quarters, still hand in hand, and still without words being said.

Once inside, he finally broke the silence with words he had wanted to start with days ago.

"Maya, there is something I should have asked awhile ago."

They were not entirely new words, for he had used them, with either "asked" or "said" a few times before, such as before the welcome dinner he had finally given her several weeks after her arrival on Alpha, or the time he had asked her for a first date, about a year after.

She obviously recognized the "... I should have..." pattern, for he had her immediate, undivided attention.

"But first," he continued, "I wrote a letter. It is not one I can possibly send, but which I had to write, and had to tell you about."

She gave him that baffled look which was ever so charming on her face, and he could almost hear her thoughts. A letter? Tony never writes letters. He even told me that. He had never had written her a love letter, or rarely to any woman, because he said they always came out sounding insincere and cheesy, even when he meant it. Or had he really ever completely meant it with letters to other women before Maya, he wondered. Maybe he should have tried. It didn't matter any more. This letter had taken days, not because he found the words difficult, but because despite being absolutely certain they were sincere, and that he had good phrasings, he had a lot to say and wanted to be certain.

He addressed her puzzlement. "Just listen, and you'll understand."

The letter had been in a large envelope in fairly plain view since their arrival here, but she had clearly taken no notice until he reached for it and took it out, leaving the rest inside. There was something else, somewhere else, too, but that was more hidden....

He took a breath, then started reading....

Papa and Mama, Family, and Friends,

This letter can never reach you, but I write it in the spirit that I would have absolutely sent it if I somehow could.

It has been a challenging seven years since the Moon broke away from Earth. It has been difficult for me to never see any of you again. Earth seems so far in the past, but I still remember your love, your support, even through some of my turbulent times and your exasperation over some of my choices.

I found a place, and myself, on Alpha, though. This base of three-hundred people proved to be a home of a different sort, a collection of disparate people who have been coming together as a community, slowly but surely, since the 1999 disaster we call Breakaway. In 1998, I joined as a security guard with some science and command background, as you know. I still don't know entirely why they accepted my application; but maybe they felt that my background still provided advantages on a research and semi-civilian Alpha Moonbase.

I knew this was my one last chance to make right, and I worked at it. Never lost some of my rough edges, but apparently the new commander, John Koenig, was fine with me, because he promoted me, first to Security Officer, under a Controller (second-in-command) named Paul Morrow, about halfway through our first year in deep space.

Myself, I was still having my usual problems with relationships, but was at least making some great new friends, and strengthening friendships started early in my posting here. You remember Patrick, and my mentioning he was dating Michelle? Well, they got married during that first year after we blew out, and I was, believe it or not, best man at their wedding. There were thirty births in that first year, twenty of the expectant couples being quite a surprise to the officers. Restrictions were placed after that discovery, and only a few more births have been allowed since that time, though we are approaching the point where we expect many more families to get started in the next year or so. Our life support has been precarious at times, but we have survived, and have been building. We still desperately hope to get off this rock, but have had no choice but to try improving our situation here too, and we're just that kind of people.

Speaking of us as a people, we call ourselves Alphans now. Rarely Earthpeople, Terrans, Earthlings, or such, but Alphans. This started sometime in our first months. I'm not even sure when, because it probably seemed so natural, since we've essentially lost all contact with Earth. We're looking at ourselves long term, hoping to transition from an accidentally cast-away colony of Earth to being a new civilization.

We have seen many wonders and dangers out here. Worlds beyond belief, aliens ranging from hostile to indifferent to friendly. The Moon was even temporarily given an atmosphere for a few glorious days. We met an alien claiming to being the Creator but turning out to be someone who used physics to work things that looked almost like magic, and who turned out to be a bad matchmaker trying genetic experimentation. A few sentient machines, a galactic trader, even a few Earth expeditions that were lost (Ultra, Uranus, and a Swift mission), and other alien peoples seeking new life elsewhere. Yet there are forces out here we don't understand at all, and sometimes wonder if we are being shepherded by a higher power. Sometimes I wonder if it is another alien force, and sometimes I wonder if it is God. I don't know. None of us do.

But I'm getting way ahead of things, so let me back up.

Sadly, we suffered some major losses in our first year. Dozens actually, including, eleven months in, Paul and three other senior officers or personnel (though there was a happy "ending" there that we'd find years later). I was promoted to First Officer, a new kind of second-in-command position on Alpha. I am still Security Officer. A lot of us have had to play multiple roles at times, some formally, some informally. The dangers in deep space have been trying to all of us, and the changes over time have reflected that.

Not long afterwards, in the waning days of the first year after Breakaway, I met a most remarkable woman. One that I never would have known without Alpha or Breakaway. She is named Maya, and -- I hope you can accept this (please do) -- she is from another planet called Psychon.

She came to us after she lost her father Mentor and her whole world to a cataclysm as our Moon flew by. Her mother Taylia had died some years before as their environment was dying. Everyone else had died or left, except Maya and her father, trying to restore the planet, until it was destroyed, and the Commander brought her here to Alpha. At first, sadly, I didn't entirely trust Maya, despite the Commander vouching for her, and I was not very nice to her sometimes. She put up with me, still trusted me to a degree I probably didn't deserve, and I started realizing she is a very nice, smart, funny, and trustworthy person. We became colleagues and friends, and she has made many other friends here. She can outthink our computer, to this day, yet she is warm, friendly, and funny.

It took me a year to realize, mostly for myself but with a little prodding by friends, that I ought to ask her out. One person -- former girlfriend, actually -- even outright implied I was a fool for not doing so before. I was already very attracted to Maya, but was unwilling to admit it to myself for awhile. Well, I found her even more fascinating as a girlfriend than as just a friend. Flirtatious, even more funny, honest, beautiful, and more patient with this often thick-headed and poorly-worded man than I ever deserved. She's had to put up with some boorish, thoughtless things I've said, and though probably tempted to dump me for good, and giving me some well-deserved grief over it, I am so completely grateful she has forgiven me. Monica, my sister, you always said it would take a patient woman with a huge sense of humor to put up with me. Well, you were right, and I count my blessings that I finally found her, in the most unexpected place. I hope Maya thinks I have been growing, too; because, you'll be happy to know, I have finally been trying my utmost, knowing I didn't want to lose this wonderful woman.

Yes, she does look a little different, but I can honestly say she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Some of you wondered about my constant interest in foreign women, and now in retrospect it seems like I was meant to meet Maya and give her a chance, and I am delighted she has given me several chances. I can only imagine what you're thinking about this, and hope you can understand that she is who I want. I have decided that right after I finish writing this letter, I will....

He stopped right there, the letter -- the sentence -- not yet completely read, got down on his knee, and said, to a Maya who was scarcely breathing, and was staring at him intently, looking ready to cry, "Maya, I really do love you with all my heart, and have for a long time. I will never again be stupid enough to take it back, even if I never meant it. It simply won't happen again, because I am completely in love with you. Will you marry me?"

"Oh, Tony, I love you. Yes, I will."

He pulled the small box out of a pocket, and inside was a ring. It might have been a small, artificial diamond, but Alpha had few natural diamonds. He had found someone in Manufacturing he could trust to keep his request quiet, so as to avoid the chance of rumours reaching Maya.

Everyone was allotted the chance to obtain an engagement ring, though it was a general understanding that an engagement had to follow within a reasonable amount of time, or that the diamond should be returned, as it could be re-used in various equipment.

He took it out of its box, and though her fingers trembled slightly in anticipation as he reached for them, they became completely steady, totally accepting. She seemed to understand just fine what the ring meant. Whether it was from her seeing movies, or from having at least one friend who had been proposed to and married, or books, or whatever, she clearly knew what this represented. She seemed to be looking at it differently than the often-larger diamonds he had seen her handle in her continuing expansion of building optical circuitry. This one clearly seemed different too here, and that she seemed to be feeling it to at least some degree, looking at it like it was the most beautiful one she had seen. Good, he thought happily as placed the ring on her finger.

He got up, pulled his chair closer, right next to her, and gently wiped a tear from her cheek. He drew her close, and kissed her tenderly. She eagerly returned the kiss, and they continued for some time.

When they separated, they stared in each other's eyes for a few more seconds. Then, reluctant yet eager too, he reached for the letter again, saying, "Here, let me finish."

I have decided that right after I finish writing this letter, I will propose to her, and I can only pray she answers "yes."

We have talked about children, and both of us have expressed interest in having four. The Chief Medical Officer, Helena Russell, did some research early on, before Maya and I we were even involved. Maya seems related to humans -- enough that though not of the human race as we know it, Psychons are perhaps a distant race within the species. No one knows for sure. That it is perhaps possible at all, even across galaxies, is yet another of those curious -- and perhaps fortunate in this case -- situations we have encountered here in space. Even if we cannot have children of our own, we would be happy to give another child or more a home if they lack one.

Alpha is nearly ready for a lot more than just forty children, and I am at last feeling truly ready for a wife, children, and family of my own. I have found the right woman, and again, I can only hope she thinks I am the right man, even after saying things to her that would have probably earned a swift slap upside the head by you, Mama.

Enclosed, please find a few pictures of my girlfriend, whom I hope will be my fiancée shortly. I pray you see her effervescent eyes, her smile, and know she is intelligent, funny, patient, kind and gracious beyond belief, and gorgeous. She is my best friend, my girlfriend, my soul mate, and the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. I hope that she accepts, and that you will welcome her into your hearts even from all this distance, even though you will almost certainly never get to meet her, or any children we may have. I will keep you posted, in my heart and soul.

With love and friendship,

Tony

06 Sept 2006
2550 Days After Breakaway

"You may not write love letters," Maya gently said, "but you write an absolutely beautiful letter home, Tony. Please, may I see the pictures?"

"Absolutely."

They were in a separate envelope, clearly for a person to read the letter first, as if he wanted to make it perfectly clear who she was, and what she meant to him, before what she looked like. Far from taking it as an insult, it was a compliment, both for the order and that he nonetheless made a point of including pictures.

There was a picture from her first birthday party on Alpha, of her Tony, Joan, Helena, Annette, and the Commander, all laughing and smiling, in perfectly comfortable company.

There was a formal shot of just her, the one she had arranged for Tony some months after they started dating, of her in her best Alphan-style dress.

There was one of her in uniform, sitting at station in Command Center, busily working, but with a gently-steaming cup of coffee sitting in the view too. It was a picture Tony himself had just taken one day recently, to her total surprise -- a "candid" as it was called. No arrangement, just a random -- or maybe not so random -- photograph.

There was one of her and Tony on a survey mission on a lush planet they had not been able to colonize, but which provided a wonderful backdrop as they looked at each other for a moment, him reaching out for her hand to ease down a hill.

There was one of them dancing, her in her Psychon dress she was also wearing now, him in his most formal clothing that he had on Alpha, during a formal dance event. They were staring into each other's eyes, not even aware until days later that Bill had taken a picture.

There was the snapshot he had taken of her sitting on a chair in her room, next to her nightstand, with the paintings of her childhood family and some Alphan pictures, including of Tony and her and him, fairly plainly visible. She was smiling and gesturing, in animated conversation, only noticing the camera a moment before he took the picture.

Finally, there was a version of the "formal" picture of them as a couple, a smaller copy of the large one each had in their separate room.

"Oh, Tony, these are a beautiful and thoughtful selection."

"Thank you. It's really too bad I can't send any of it. Distance, time dilation, and all that. I like to think my parents have read it anyway, in a sense, but...." He trailed off as he repackaged the pictures. He took out a pen from a pocket, and spoke words as he added them to the bottom of the letter. "P.S. She said Yes!!!!" He then put it the letter and smaller packet of pictures inside the larger outer envelope. "You should have it then, Maya. Since my woeful non-skills writing love letters have left you none-"

"One. This."

"Exactly, so please accept it," he said, handing it to her.

"Absolutely," she said, taking it, and clutching it gently to her heart. He didn't even wonder if it was a Psychon gesture too or where she might have gotten it from. He just smiled.

"Well, you want to spread the good news?" he asked. "Though I have to admit Alan already knows I was going to propose, along with Will in Manufacturing for the diamond."

"Alan?" she asked.

"Yeah. He told me you seemed a little anxious in Omicron and Omega, frustrated at being separated from me but yet acting like you might be frustrated with me."

"I didn't say anything like that.... But... he is correct. I was concerned our relationship perhaps could not progress, and wasn't sure what to do, and I was... reacting to Alan more than I should have, wondering why he doesn't have a permanent mate when he is such a good man. Tony, I know I can be a flirt, but-"

"It wasn't hard to read between the lines of what Alan was telling me. Maya, after some of the stupid things I've said and done, and how long ago I should have done this, I'm surprised you didn't dump me permanently a long time ago. Women have done so a lot faster than you. You were the one who gave me lots of chances. Why should I take offence at you have some doubts about me and starting to think maybe there are better chances elsewhere."

She still looked a little uncertain, so he took her hand and said, "Catbird, I understand. I should have proposed a long time ago. That is my fault, not yours."

"No, not just yours. I could have talked more. Some of my friends were saying I should have pushed you a little more."

The proposal was like the sun had just risen on a brand new day, and this little discussion after was like some of the remaining fog was burning away in the clearer light of new daylight. There'd probably be more, not to mention some clouds at times, but the feeling was to face the "day" -- and the rest of their days -- hand-in-hand now.

The conversation wandered about, soon leaving these regrets behind, until they worked back to a question that had gone unanswered.

"Yes, let's tell," Maya said. "Ooooh, I just had an interesting idea that will get you a little of your wish to send your letter."

"What?"

"You can't send your letter back to family and friends back on Earth, but you can send it to friends here. If you want."

"Maya, that is a wonderful idea!"

He would just need to find a slightly larger, Return-To envelope....

Ω |||| R-5043 DAB: Basic Sense

"Now what?"

The quietly-spoken words seemed to hang in the air of the pod sitting at Drop Point on Haven.

Maya had asked the question, but any one of them could have, and none of them had an answer yet.

For now, the double jolt of discovering Tony and Helena on Haven, and of Maya's pregnancy, was almost too much to absorb, and that would take awhile to muddle through the complications, including how to reveal Maya's state to the rest of the Alphans, given one of Alpha's most well-known and controversial rules. There were no answers about any of this, and that conversation had nowhere to go for the moment.

It was a basic sense the four Alphans had which brought them out of the difficult, stalled discussion of new complications: duty.

They realized the need to continue with post-evacuation portions of Operation Exodus plans, and evaluate their settlement so far and what the next steps were.

Maya soon insisted on getting to her feet -- and out of the pod to see Haven.

Tony and Helena had brought their commlocks from their settlement, and they were now charged and integrated with the bigger settlement's Eagle computers. These computers were running most of the communication coordination while as much of Main Computer they could bring awaited a setup decision. June Washington would have quite the task for her and her meager support staff. They still felt the loss of David Kano. Sandra Benes could have helped in some ways as well, but she had been killed in the same destructive incident as Kano.

Helena called for Maya's current doctor, but after twenty minutes of consultation and further checks, she was cleared for cautious activity -- and no shapeshifting for today. Maya had shook her head, obviously not wanting to try it today, either.

Maya smiled on reaching the outside. As sad as even Maya had become in the "Omega Grinder" as someone had dubbed it once, and as shocking as recent developments literally had been, both seemed to fade for a brief moment. It was Tony and Helena who were soon chattering more, about the planet and what they had found in their nearly two years here. The two of them seemed more like the Alphans of old, in such contrast to the more beaten-down "Omegan" settlers, even in light of the latter finding some additional wind on this calm, so far almost wind-free planet.

Maya walked, albeit slowly, with John on one side and Tony on the other. Whatever discomfort about their relationship mess, this was just about not wanting to see Maya collapse and injure herself.

Maya got to look at the two tables of found supplies, but it was time to convene a Command Conference. The table which had been moved from John's Main Mission office to a much more cramped room near Command Center, was found upside down in a tent, but quickly hauled out into the air, near the two tables.

Victor noticed the activity, and moved slowly towards them. His health was declining as his bouts with recurring cancer got harder and harder to root out, perhaps especially considering the damage Medical Center, like so many parts of Moonbase, had taken over recent years. Yet he seemed to be doing much better for now, his eyes seemingly beaming even more than the Haven's still-unnamed sun.

"Maya, my dear. It is good to see you on your feet again."

"Thank you, Victor. It is good to see you -- and to feel soft ground under my feet."

"Indeed. It looks like you were gathering to talk about how softly this world might treat us." He turned to John, "Should I call the rest?"

"Yes, please."

Paul, Alibe, Bill, Leann, and Smitty were called over. With John, Maya, Victor, Tony, and Helena, there were ten in the officer corps, up from eight just yesterday, and six before Leann and Smitty had become junior officers. As much as eight was a lot for a reduced population, having lost so many officers before, eight seemed better, though filling the positions had not been easy.

Tony and Helena had been separated from the rest, but were granted the resumption of their place as officers, at least in general terms. There were obviously plenty of details to work out, especially given the likely contradiction at the First Officer post, now filled by both Tony and Maya.

Everyone had heard of the return of Tony and Helena, but Bill, Paul, and Leann finally got to greet them. After that, they got down to business.

At first, there was little discussion of formal positions, and no decisions as such. It was clear Tony and Helena would be serving more in the role of consultants regarding what they knew of Haven, and what recommendations they would have. Of course, Helena could return to medical practice, even if it was not clear who should be CMO going forward.

However, many other topics were discussed, most in terms of resources.

Everyone decided a visit to Tony and Helena's settlement was warranted. They quickly dubbed it Colnu, after Maya suggested reversing the letters of the name -- Unloc -- the two had given the whole planet. In a way, it honored the fact of this first name. "We certainly had not gotten to giving our little home a name," Tony had joked, drawing a curious glance from Maya.

It seemed like his sense of humor had survived a lot better than Maya's.

That the pronunciation happened to sound like a shortening of the phrase "Colony New" startled everyone just a little bit. If anyone believed in luck, the funny little word play might have been taken as a good sign. That few Alphans believed in good luck anymore rendered this find little more than a curiosity.

The first meeting was little more than sorting out the basics and making some obvious first decisions. Maya offered to resume Science Officer as full time role, and bring Tony up to speed on her First Officer duties during his absence. Sorting out the CMO position was deferred for now, though Helena would have her hands full be bringing Medical up to speed on what she knew of this world so far.

By the time they were done with this meeting, it was well into dusk. A little earlier, Smitty had taken a few minutes to set up some light stands around the table, with power cords running to a portable nuclear generator in the tent.

When Bill went to shut off the lights, Tony touched Helena's shoulder and pointed to the generator. Helena shook her head slightly, her longer hair barely moving. Noticing the others' gazes, Tony looked at them and said, "You have no idea how many times we wished one of those had been aboard." Typically on a multi-Eagle mission, only one Eagle carried one of these. The two had been delayed launching their Eagle, and were simply playing catch-up with the rest, and thus had not had such a generator. "I messed around with the Eagle's main plant as best as I could, but I was not a nuclear engineer, and Helena was afraid I'd create a leak. I tried what I thought I could safely do, before having to give up."

"We'll have to bring Ehrlich along and see if he can do something about that," Smitty commented.

"It suffered some other odd damage," Tony said, but I thought it might be airworthy if we could only get main power. With some of its damage, I'm not sure if it is space-worthy, or can be trusted in too much turbulence down here."

Leann looked up, then after a moment, said, "Have you got a name for that?"

Everyone else looked up. There was a bright star in the dimming sky, only it wasn't twinkling. After a short time, everyone could see a tiny bit of movement -- from west to east.

"We call it Speedy," Tony said. "A small moon that is close enough to the planet to be below geosynchronous orbit, and is actually moving so fast in its orbit that it rises in the west and sets in the east, even though it is orbiting in the same direction as the other moon, and our own Moon did around Earth."

"Like one of the moons of Mars?" Alibe asked.

"Yes," John confirmed.

"What about the other moon?" Smitty asked after long silence.

"Grey," Tony said. "With an 'e'," he added.

"Gray," Helena said, "with an 'a'."

They smiled at each other, then abruptly looked away. It struck some of the others present like it was a couple's good natured quarrel.

They wandered back towards the pods, but slowly. The children were now absent. Operation Exodus had been amended after the baby boomlet which had occurred in their first year in space, much to the surprise of most of the officers at the time. One of the amendments to the initial settlement parts of Operation Exodus was all children under fourteen could not be out after sunset for at least the first month, unless with an adult. It was commonsense that dropping onto a new and unfamiliar planet with unknown dangers meant greater precautionary measures for their children until there was better understanding of their surroundings.

Also good sense was that there were guards from Security Section patrolling the perimeter at intervals.

They reached the sound of a noise that had been constant albeit distant throughout their meeting. At least one of the caged doves had been cooing for hours, even into the night lit up by settlement lights.

"Noisy thing today," John said.

Maya stepped up and put her fingers into the cage. "I think they see and feel nature for the first time in years -- or their lives -- and want to fly in it. So much more space than in Biosphere."

Maya herself looked up into the sky. Dark or not, they could see her wanting to fly.

"You may want to skip it for at least tomorrow too," John said, "until you are sure you are recovered. Then, whenever you are recovered, we could use your surveying skills."

She smiled wanly.

Sadly, for those who were actually birds, they would probably not get to take to the sky any time soon. Firstly, it was not clear whether they survive on this planet. Second, their numbers were small, and if they scattered, they might never reproduce in sufficient number to continue in the wild. Third, if they did thrive, would it be at the cost of endangering this planet's system? The irony is some of them had had some stretches of time between intentional release and re-capture cycles in Biosphere IV, before it had been destroyed, but would be grounded here. Only Maya -- and those inside the artificial Eagles -- would get to fly for the foreseeable future.

Just as so many human lives had been lost forever, so had some of the other species Alpha had carried been wiped out. The doves were among the survivors.

It was the summer season here in the southern hemisphere, so the sunset was fairly late. Most Alphans were exhausted, the hasty evacuation only days ago, a lot of survey work, further setting up shelters and equipment after a very hasty Operation Exodus given the low Eagle capacity, and the shocking discoveries of this day.

Space was quietly arranged for Tony and Helena tonight, in one of the Eagle pods, giving them a lot of space, almost like guests, while many of the Alphans slept in tents or several in each of about half the other pods, the ones not holding sensitive equipment or left unpacked. Helena felt the urge to protest, but Tony put his hand up after Leann had led them here, whispering to Helena, "Let's not overthink this tonight. We're both tired." In the end, perhaps this was good for tonight.

John and Maya headed away together to another pod which was doubling as his temporary office, storage, and also held a component of Main Computer. The pod would likely be repurposed at some point. Maybe it would be a command center. No one knew yet. Now though, it happened to have one of the flat beds couples had, like what Maya always had had, her never having adapted to the contour beds common among singles. The sheets were missing, probably -- hopefully -- a storage cube in some pod doubling as a storage bin. So they broke out a blanket that had been stored in the pod for possible use on missions.

John embraced Maya briefly, saying simply, "So, a child. That is wonderful."

There was no statement about plans or about future, no real acknowledgement about how much this might change things or complicate figuring out their relationship, simply an acknowledgement of something as amazing as it was unexpected.

This only seemed to make Maya seem more distant, back to that confused state she had upon discovery. She acknowledged the gesture of his statement, but seemed uninterested in further discussion, and he didn't want to force it. They got in bed, albeit with an odd look at each other. How much longer might this happen?

There were again now answers tonight, only more questions.

Tony and Helena had something to acknowledge too, but not really about their own relationship. "Back among other people," Helena said.

"That hope had retreated to my wildest dreams only," Tony said.

"Now what?" Helena asked after a very long pause.

"I don't know."

They could have been referring to anything -- or everything.

Little else was said among either couple. They could have used extreme fatigue as a very good excuse, but it was more than that. All four were simply yet profoundly overwhelmed.

α |||| W-2550 DAB 1730-1745: Posted Progress

John and Helena were up in Moonbase Alpha's Main Observation, on one of their more frequent forays up here since Alpha had started assembling the smaller pieces of the building project delayed by the prior chaos.

They had Main Observation all to themselves, and looking out a window together, were exchanging quiet words about how Paul's Plan was coming together at last. The man himself was a little disillusioned that his Plan B had unfortunately become such a necessity during his absence; but that didn't downplay the brilliance of the original idea, as well as the brilliance of everything added to it. The idea had grown into something far more ambitious than anyone had anticipated, as ideas led to more ideas and attracted more ideas. How "luck" or something else had really been smiling on them about this plan.

Tony entered the room, not in uniform but dressed very smartly, as much as Alphan wardrobes allowed. They noticed him first, looking around, and on his spotting them, he approached, a large envelope in hand.

"Perfect. Sandra thought you might both be here."

Tony handed the envelope to John, then turned around and headed away.

"Tony?"

"Postal delivery," Tony cryptically said over his shoulder as he used the commlock to open the door and stride through, without further pause.

Helena looked at John with her 'what was that about?' expression.

He shrugged. They often didn't have to say a word to have a conversation. He looked down at the envelope, which was unsealed, and marked, "Handle With Care." He opened it, and pulled out another envelope inside, to which was attached a sticky note:

Since this can't be delivered to Earth.... (However, please return it to me eventually. Thank you!) Tony

"What?" Helena said, finally just having to say something aloud.

"No idea."

The inner envelope was not sealed, and turning it over, they found "addresses":

From:  Anthony Verdeschi
       Moonbase Alpha
       The Universe

To..:  Family and Friends
       Wherever/Whenever

"Oh my God, John, that is beautiful."

"Yes, and very unique."

"Seems appropriate for the couple. Open the pictures."

That envelope was also unsealed, and they were soon thumbing through them.

When they were done looking, the pieces all still out in their hands, they just looked at each other.

"That is so incredibly romantic," Helena said. "I knew Tony could romance a woman but in some ways was not the brightest romantically, but who knew he could write a love letter like this."

"Love letter?"

"Of course it is."

"Yes, I think you're right. So they've finally figured it out."

"Apparently. Now why haven't we?" Helena asked, teasingly.

A younger man might have blanched at the question. While John could sometimes get a little tongue-tied too, occasionally, his maturity showed through in his response, even couched lightly: "Hey, I thought we had."

Yet he took it for what it meant. A hint, one of several Helena had been dropping for a few weeks now. She wanted to be married. Then again, so did he. Soon, he decided.

Just then, Janina Conway, long one of Maya's friends, walked in, with her husband. Helena reassembled all the material the way it had came, and took it down to them, then returned to John's side. Not surprisingly, whatever the other two had wanted to do was soon forgotten, for after some happy words from Janina to her husband as well as Helena and John, the other couple soon left with the envelope, and Helena was alone with John again.

Helena was smiling, and for awhile, they simply stood there, looking out the window, quietly thinking.

More than a few pieces were starting to fall into place.

The marriage rate had started increasing.

Even the Dorcon attack, another low point for Alpha, had not dampened the hope rising from the fields of garbage Alpha had collected, and the labs and manufacturing plants churning out the material they could see as they turned to look back out of the viewports.

It was a risky plan, dangerous in several ways, in the short-term through the long-term. If they failed, it would put Alpha's future at risk. It was one, however, the Alphans had long since decided they needed to attempt. Delayed by weeks, the timetable was finally moving again. Make or break time might be coming soon, and John grasped Helena's shoulder as they turned to look at what pieces they could see from Main Observation....

Ω |||| F-5044 DAB: Freak Show

One-hundred and eighteen Alphans awoke to a breezy and mostly-cloudy morning at Drop Point on Haven, the first day where there had been more wind for the Alphans newly arrived to Haven, at a site picked in part for its initially calm conditions.

Soon, though, a number of officers and others left it behind. Tony and Helena were heading back to their home site, now designated Colnu, along with John and Maya, Botanist Lena Andreichi, Nuclear Technician Ehrlich, and Electrical Engineer Carl van der Mir. Zoologist Pedro Gutierez was a last-minute addition after Helena pointed out they had caught and were keeping some animals for food purposes.

Andreichi had become head of the Botany department after the death of Abigail Strong. Poor Shermeen Williams had died of illness, though some suggested it was brought on by a broken heart after the Zalkers had killed Eddie Collins. The two had become one of the rare engaged couples on Alpha.

Today's Eagle mission comprised an eclectic group, but for two main purposes today.

The Eagle was still half-filled with unpacked material which had no room to go elsewhere yet. Most of that material comprised the last things this particular pod had hauled off Moonbase. There were storage cubes, several mattresses jammed in on their sides between a few of the seats, some boxes of paper, as well as supplies for this mission. It was rather ridiculously crowded for the eight, even if two were up front in the pilot module.

Upon arrival at the tiny settlement, the Eagle settled in the same wild field of low grasses and flowers to the north -- where Pete and Alibe had landed yesterday.

They had evidently left the wind behind, halfway across the small continent from Drop Point, for it was nearly calm here.

"You built a house?" John asked Tony.

"We stayed in the Eagle for a few months, until we realized rescue wasn't coming and we were just draining the Eagle's backup power using it as a daily abode, even when using its lights and environmental systems sparingly. So we started building frantically."

"Not bad looking for frantic," Carl commented. It was a very basic-looking structure, but struck the rest as appearing sound.

"Thanks. Yeah, so once that was done enough to stay in, we designated the Eagle for longer-term, infrequently-accessed storage, such as surplus grains and other food, equipment we made that we didn't always need to use, as well as emergency shelter."

"Did you have to use it for emergencies?" Lena asked.

"A few severe storms, but fortunately the house stood."

It was a small house, not surprisingly. One room for living and cooking, a smaller for storage. That Eagles always had basic tools such as saws, axes, hammer, nails, and such had again paid off. It also had welding equipment and a few basic higher-tech items, but there had not been as much need for them. The damage to the Eagle was too great for what little extra metal an Eagle carried, Tony explained.

Back outside, they looked around. "The detached storage shed was a more recent addition," Helena said. John spotted an outhouse to the east, just inside the edge of the forest.

"Why not build next to the Eagle?" Maya asked. "Oh, in case you regained main power and could launch," she answered her own question.

"Exactly," Helena said.

The group soon split. Ehrlich, van der Mir, and Maya headed to the Eagle, with the goal of seeing if main power could be restored to the rest of the Eagle, or failing that, if the power source could be removed and used in some other way.

Over the next several hours, Verdeschi and Russell took Koenig, Andreichi, and Gutierez on a tour of the farm areas, then into the forests to take stock of what they had found. After that, the five then returned to the functional Eagle, for aerial inspection of the whole area.

Though Maya was an effective scout with her own unique perceptions as a bird, no one, not even her, wanted her to try a full molecular transformation. Her last attempt had resulted in her screaming and collapsing afterwards, back on base, days ago. The doppelgänger Maya reported having problems herself while on a third alternate reality -- problems with Doppelgänger Syndrome and what the alternate Maya had reported was problems with some space warps.

Eagles had many sensors on board them, and the ability to carry several people running different instruments. The two different approaches -- Eagles and Maya -- had become very complimentary over the years, but for now, it was just the Eagle in flight.

The forest-field boundary went for as far as the eye could see, with the river roughly paralleling, ranging from a few tens of meters to a few kilometers into the forest.

The day passed quickly, even with it being summer in the southern hemisphere of a planet with a 25.2-hour rotational period.

They all regrouped just before sunset, to prepare and share dinner as the sky turned from blue and white to deeper blue and orange. The technical team reported main power was not restored to the Eagle. They had gotten further into the heart of the system than Tony had, but were finding severed cords, damage not unlike that seen elsewhere in the Eagle. "Damn lucky you guys didn't end up with a punctured core from the damage alone," Ehrlich said.

"Probably just as well you left it alone," Maya commented. "Trying to repair such circuitry with little knowledge could have activated the wrong system."

Tony and Helena looked at each other.

"I brought a number of replacement components," Carl van der Mir reported, "but we're actually lacking more wire than I expected. Manufacturing is going to have to get some small copperworks going, along with one of the small extruders for the insulation."

John sighed, command still seeming to weigh heavily. Like Atlas, however, he was still holding up, though not without plenty of visible signs of stress. Maya gave him a look of concern, but he proceeded: "Fine, contact Drop Point. They can ship it out when ready." They had not brought out the few surviving Eagle engineers yet, for they were busy trying to turn around the three operating ships, one of which was an "Omega" original and had broken down further with its multiple flights during Operation Exodus. They had to keep their tiny fleet of three in flight, and there was no sense potentially wasting time on Tony and Helena's Eagle if its main power could not be restored.

Today, another Eagle had scouted for a location where to store some of the fuels used by Eagles and power systems, safely away from either colony. Someone had suggested maybe on Speedy or Grey/Gray, one of Haven's moons, but besides the irony of starting to stash material on a moon again, there was the simple point that if something grounded all three Eagles, needed fuel would be rendered inaccessible.

Koenig indicated he had gotten a report that some caves had been found a hundred klicks from Drop Point. Some would be kept at Drop Point, away from the immediate settlement, in more immediate readiness, but the rest moved to this location, and some Geiger counters, one of Maya's newer scanners, and a transmitter.

The report from the biological front at here at Colnu was better. The zoologist was impressed by the animals Tony and Helena had captured. One, a fowl-like egg layer, but of enormous size, like a small emu but with a whip tail with small, dinosaur-like spikes. Though it had a strangely gentle nature and had proven easy to tame, both Tony and Helena had been spiked a couple times nonetheless.

"It has a chemical exuded into the hollow spikes, that is probably a mean defense on this planet, but I scanned it early as harmless to us," Helena stated.

"The spike itself still hurts like hell," Tony stated. "Don't overcrowd them. That's what makes them angry, and they take it out on other species, not each other."

The animal kept for milk and meat was a weird one. It had hooves, a mouth that was more beak than lips, some bony spike pointing forward from each forelimb, like it had tried to grow six legs, and a paddle-like tail. "It even has something that looks more like down feathers than fur," Pedro Gutierez stated. "I suppose it's a mammal because it has milk, but Helena stated it lays eggs too, but more fully-developed ones that hatch a day or two later.

In between forkfuls of food gathered by the larger group, Tony looked at Helena and said, "Did you mention Shagarm Junior?"

Helena shook her head, her somewhat more sun-bleached and longer blonde hair waving about, and started explaining. "We've killed several of those aggressive beasts, sometimes in self-defense and sometimes for food. Every one of them has some small, grub-like creature that inhabits almost half the stomach, which itself is rather large. I've not been able to determine if it is a parasite endemic to this area, to the whole species, or is a mutually beneficial symbiote."

Pedro had nearly gagged on his "red dust mushroom" soup halfway through the description. "Damn. I hadn't gotten that far in my dissection of the one that charged camp. I had to put it in the refrigeration pod."

Tony leaned back in his chair. "Then there's the spitting parrot. It shoots venom out of its beak somehow. You see a large green and purple bird, don't look it in the eye, and turn away immediately. No matter how close you get before you spot it or before it squawks, as long as you turn away right away, it seems satisfied you respect it."

"Sounds sort of like a spitting cobra," Gutierez opined. "Probably wants to preserve its venom for its prey, maybe. Snakes on Earth really don't want to waste their venom on something they can't eat unless they feel immediate threat of death."

"Didn't respect it?" Lena asked Tony bluntly.

"No, and you don't have to call me fool, because Helena here already did," he said with a jovial smile. "I'm just lucky I was wearing sunglasses."

"There are a lot of strange creatures on this planet," Helena stated. "Some of them are just as bizarre. We have seen some even weirder skeletons, of creatures that I don't think I've seen living around here."

"It's almost like God had a field day here," Tony said, "seeing what worked and didn't. Yet I don't think that's the explanation either."

Helena ran a hand through her hair. "We've sometimes joked it seems like some mad scientist geneticist was running around for the last few millennia."

"I kept expecting to see Bigfoot tromp by one day," Tony quipped.

"Bigfoot?" Maya asked. As subdued as Maya had become over the last few years, she had never lost that curiosity to resolve unknown terms.

"Mythical, big hairy man-ape that some thought was tromping around the United States."

No one else laughed. It would be awhile before the "Omegans" regained more of a sense of humor.

"It all kind of creeped me out at times," Helena said. "That some of them worked out as food sources was good, but I kept wondering if there was some landlord here, looking at all these creatures that seem to be the result of some genetic manipulation. You have no idea what I wouldn't have given to have a DNA sequencer, to use during the occasional spare time or during winter. I don't suppose that survived?"

"Actually, yes, it did, from what I heard," Maya stated. "At least on Alpha. I do not know if it was transported here."

"I hope so."

"I insisted it be brought," Pedro said, "but don't know if it was." He paused, then said, "Regardless, we're going to have quite the collection of specimens."

Lena, who was already collecting various plants and fungi, nodded her agreement.

Suddenly, it didn't seem like releasing some Earth animals here would damage this environment. It was already filled with strange things that didn't make a lot of sense together. Of course, there were other reasons not to release them any time soon.

There was quiet. Ehrlich took a bite left of his food, then looked at it like it might become rare. "What about long term?" he asked.

"This wide boundary zone intermixing forest and field patches, seems to be rich enough fauna wise," Pedro said. "It sounds like this area does have some advantages."

"I'd say it is even more advantageous plant-wise than Drop Point," Lena stated. "The soil is much richer here, and I found what I think are some legume equivalents that are very active. Plus, Dr. Russell and Mr. Verdeschi really have managed to find some good growth plants." She explained some further advantages.

John sat back, and when she was done, said, "I'm starting to think Drop Point might make a better technology location with supplementary plant and animal growth, and this area primarily agrarian with supplementary technical work."

"Split the colony in two?" Carl asked.

"Operation Exodus has that as an advisory," John stated quietly. "Having only one location on planet is a risk, that some natural disaster, disease outbreak, or attack could do more damage to a single site than two or more separated locations."

It was night by the time they were finished slowly eating and talking. Tony and Helena invited some to stay in their house. There wasn't enough room for everyone in either the house or Eagle. The flayed Eagle was packed with stored food and built items that weren't used every season, and only had been cleared enough to allow access to the engine compartment. It would be four in the house, four in the flying Eagle.

John declined the house for him and Maya. It was fairly well-constructed and well-kept, even if simple. But it would be too crowded, and it seemed wiser to retire to the Eagle.

Lena and Pedro followed suit.

ο |||| T-1999/09/14, 1140-1225: Disorder/Distraction

Capt. Bill Fraser found it hard to fight to open his eyes. He found himself staring up at a ceiling with a power cord or something hanging about halfway down.

Suddenly it all flowed back. A second blast, him struggling to hold onto his console, but finally being thrown to the ground and pinned by acceleration.

There were moans, and he felt liquid on his cheek and discovered it was blood, rolling down from a scalp wound.

That hurt, and his head was swimming. There were voices. Kano, the computer manager. Morrow, demanding a status report. Simmonds, muttering something Bill couldn't quite hear.

Bill pushed himself back a foot to the nearby step, and got himself into a seated position for now. He looked up to the Big Screen. The view was spinning, a slice of the Moon flashing by every few seconds. The satellite that had a view of Area Two was tumbling in space but evidently had been pulled along.

The voices still sounded distorted, especially one woman's voice, that he finally realized was Computer, reporting that it could not plot a return flight plan, and that a human decision was required.

As Bill's head started clearing up, he watched as instead of a decision, an argument erupted between Simmonds, Morrow, and Bergman, even as status reports flowed into the stations of Morrow, Kano, and Tanya.

Bergman was arguing Eagles could not attempt a direct return. The first explosion, pushing them out of orbit, had already made the distance too far after the two Rescue Eagles were launched. Now early indication was the second explosion had pushed them onto a course out of the solar system altogether.

Bill's heart sunk. Hours ago, he had been so busy trying to help out, and the return time thought to be six months, that it hadn't really hit him.

This, though, was very different. Sitting on the floor with a bleeding head, and hearing they couldn't even return to Earth, really struck him.

Simmonds, looking somewhat wild, was almost screaming that Eagles could be loaded up for a long-term return flight.

"For maybe half of Moonbase," Morrow objected in a still semi-calm voice, "given the amount of supplies they would need."

"Isn't saving half better than none?" Simmonds said loudly.

"Most of the half returning will probably die, and the half here on Moonbase will probably not be able to maintain Alpha for more than a couple months," Victor stated.

"If we stay here, we will all die."

"The reports I am getting are of relatively minor additional damage," Tanya stated.

"Computer is intact," Kano stated, "and reports we scrammed one nuclear generator but with no damage, and the others are completely intact."

"Medical suffered no additional damage."

Bill finally stood up, slowly, staying in the back of Main Mission, and worked his way over to another operative, to get a report from Reconnaissance. He relayed a report they were in fairly good shape.

There were more reports, until Simmonds interrupted and said, "What is the point of all of this?"

"Moonbase is essentially intact," Morrow explained. "Systems that are down are minor or at first guess can be repaired. We all stand a chance of survival."

"And for finding a new home," Victor said. While Bill had been busy, the Professor had moved over to a computer panel and pulled a tape from it. "Computer is still trying to sort things out, but it puts Meta in the range of possible courses, though it is still a rather large range that needs more time before we can be sure."

That was such a strange possibility -- that the entire Moon had perhaps become the replacement for the Meta Probe. Kano punched furiously at keys, muttering something about "settling poor Computer."

Simmonds returned to shrillness, trying to argue every Earth return possibility, while Bergman argued against it, and Morrow asked an occasional question. Fraser couldn't blame Simmonds for exploring every possibility, which was actually good, but the way Simmonds went about it....

It still was not clear to Bill who was ultimately in charge. Technically, it was probably the Controller, but the Commissioner was a major authority figure here. Maybe something in the ILC's wording about removing the Commander had left the Commissioner with more direct power than normal.

Finally, Kano reported confirmation of a "outbound, breakaway course."

"What about Meta?"

"Definitely Meta. An approach to within Eagle range."

"Meta?" Simmonds stated.

An argument raged again, even though it was already perfectly clear an attempt to return to Earth would be disastrous while Moonbase could survive for years or more.

Finally, even Simmonds seemed to see this, subsiding and even nodding -- slightly -- in the end, as Morrow also sided with staying on Moonbase. Eventually, Simmonds outright stated his agreement, sounding almost calm for the first time in awhile.

No Earth return. That was it. Fraser and everyone had just gotten separated from everyone else they knew. Bill would probably never see his parents again. Nor his older sister, his nephews, aunts, uncles, friends. He had come to the Moon to assist in an unusual, ill-described situation, and now he was headed away with the Moon into deep space, probably never to return.

Main Mission filled with stoic silence that even the sounds of normal systems barely lessened.

It had taken awhile for a decision to be reached, and evidently, it had required a consensus between the Commissioner and the Controller.

Bill leaned over his console, both in relief of a decision and with a heavy heart at what it represented.

"I think you need to go to Medical," a female voice startled Bill.

He looked over to see a white-sleeved, very pretty blonde woman. Her large, beautiful eyes were looking at him with concern.

"Er... uh... I think I'm fine," he said, half tongue-tied.

"You're dripping on the console," she quietly countered, insisting he needed to follow her, even as she opened a medkit for something to press on his scalp wound.

He wanted to follow her, but a basic sense of duty still demanded.... "Mr. Morrow, do you need anything further from me for the moment?"

The Controller looked at him, then said, "Secure the remote Eagle where it is, and get to Medical. You or someone can move it later. You're a captain, right?" Bill nodded, and Morrow then continued, "Very good. When ready for duty, report to Reconnaissance, and see what the state really is. Take control until our own officer returns to duty. Tanya, anyone catch Alan's status?"

"Still unconscious," Tanya reported.

Bill moved over to the remote control unit, holding a pad to his wound, and sitting down, while the pretty woman moved to check on other personnel. He checked on the Eagle's status, got a green light, hit the DD button to initiate a data dump to Main Computer. He informed Kano of such, only to have Kano sweep his arm absently, obviously focused on other critical tasks. Bill then shut down the Eagle's main power.

Bill stood up, and found himself a bit woozy. The woman rematerialized next to him, helping steady him.

"I will call a gurney," she said.

"No, I'm fine now. I stood up too quickly. Others may need gurneys." The woman didn't argue the point, but still walked with him, so he said, "You don't have to walk with me."

"I think I should."

"Are you a doctor?"

She laughed briefly -- a melodious sound -- and said, "No, a nurse."

"What's your name?" he asked impulsively.

"Annette."

"Well, thanks, Annette. I'm Bill."

Curiously, she smiled.

I must have hit my head harder than I thought, Bill mused. He normally wasn't even this forward with a woman like Annette, as she seemed quite out of his league.

The odd thing was, she didn't seem to mind. Either that, or she was just ignoring him, as such beautiful women usually did.

He shook his head. Greatest catastrophe in mankind's history, and I'm noticing the nurse.

She did not lead him to the same Medical Center he had already helped other astronauts get to, but rather to a Medical Care Unit, which itself was busy.

Annette started cleaning his wound, to a couple visible and auditory winces on his part. She smiled a bit, but didn't comment. Maybe she appreciated that he wasn't pretending it didn't hurt, but wasn't a baby about it either.

His shook himself internally, abruptly turning serious, and saying, "Do you know what is wrong with Captain Alan Carter?"

"Severe nausea."

"From what?"

"Hmm?" she said as she apparently focused on his wound more than his words.

"Is he suffering the same illness, whatever it is, rumoured to be killing Meta Probe astronauts?"

"No, that illness is very distinctive."

"Then what caused Carter's nausea?"

Annette frowned. "I was told the cause is confidential to all but a few Medical staff. A lot around here has been hushed the last few days. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"Because I've got a trustworthy face?" Bill said, to an immediate mental kicking of himself.

Annette laughed again, and said, smiling, "Maybe."

Maybe they were both feeling the need for a distraction, however momentary and however unlikely it was to proceed.

Ω |||| T-5048 DAB: Small Breeze

Many years later, in a different reality, and on a world named Haven, Helena looked up at the giant bird cruising the sky above. Maya had called it a stredeelor or something like that. Far, far larger than an eagle bird, she had chosen it after Tony had pointed out there were some rather aggressive birds he had nicknamed rocs, that were larger than the eagles, owls, or similar birds she often transformed into.

Maya would hopefully be safe in her new form. She had cautiously tried a smaller form after two days at the home site, to no ill effect.

Yet as Maya cruised above and now off to the east, looking for things Eagle surveys may have missed in what was starting to become a busy settlement site, Helena had sudden other misgivings about Maya's state.

Medical questioning had shown Maya had to have become pregnant two nights before the doppelgängers of John and Helena had appeared on base. Maya indicated she would have known her pregnant state within three or four days, only she had been unconscious by then.

So far, Maya had been leery about confiding in Helena about this whole matter, obviously concerned about how she had unknowingly broken the birth control rule, and gotten herself pregnant by Helena's (former?) husband.

Helena supposed by many legal definition that their marriage had ended upon the formal declaration of Helena's death. That didn't make this any easier. Nor did having a lot of people start arriving, the work get more intense, John shuttling back and forth between Colnu and Drop Point. On one of those occasions, Helena had gone with him to give more instruction on local flora and fauna to those at Drop Point.

A brief, uncomfortable and interrupted talk with Tony revealed he'd scarcely "had much of a chance" to talk to Maya yet, but already had found her a somewhat changed woman. Quiet, with lively eyes still but so reserved -- "so sad." Helena too had observed Maya had lost much of her zest. After Psychon, it had been buried under layers of shock and pain, but had returned relatively quickly. Helena could not tell if that was the case here.

Yet to Helena, Maya seemed one of the best-off of these sad survivors. So many other Alphans, despite the sudden boost from a planetfall, seemed so much more worn out than Helena remembered -- than Helena herself, or Tony.

Maya/bird shrieked again. Maybe it was something the species did a lot, that Maya couldn't control or chose not to in order to think more about her task.

Helena could remember parts of a talk with Maya early on, about Psychon pregnancies, and how the woman could keep transforming through the first "three quarters" of pregnancy, and that those who were indeed full metamorphs were encouraged to do so. Yet there was something about having to protect the child's patterns, Helena thought.

Helena couldn't wrap her head around what it meant for Maya to be able to entirely molecularly transform not only her own entire body, but the cells of the growing child, yet have to preserve the child's patterns, to feel the protective urge during transformation, yet still be able to transform. Maybe an extension of how Maya kept, without even conscious thought, the symbiotic organisms within her. Yet this was different. The child already had a metamorphic field. Helena's head swam. The years had dimmed what was already only the most superficial grasp of what the combination of pregnancy and molecular transformation meant.

Why was she thinking about this now? Maya could not call on another Psychon woman -- or even Psychon man -- who might be able to help guide her through whatever unique aspects this had for their people. Maya's mother Taylia had obviously taught her daughter about the birds and bees -- Helena smiled at what now seemed a strange metaphor when considering a metamorph -- to some degree. Plus, as further complication, it was a Psychon/Terran child. Helena realized she would have to ask Maya whatever questions she could, no matter how stupid it might sound to Maya, just in case any question got the Psychon to thinking about something she had maybe half-forgotten, or that needed some further thought.

Helena smiled, satisfied this was her concern. Then she frowned. No, that wasn't all of it.

A couple of botanists stepped up to Helena with more samples. Helena quickly identified them, and they moved on, while Helena moved a little closer to the forest, up a small hill and onto a flat, still in the field of lowgrass. One of her favorite insects, that she called a Dragonflutter, happened by. Like a giant dragonfly, with nearly a foot-wide wingspan, but with slow strokes to its wings, and a seeming curiosity about lots of things. They had sometimes hung around her or Tony for a minute at a time. This one soon moved on, to gather food on the wing.

Helena turned her attention down the hill.

Colnu now had a second Eagle present most of the time. The flayed Eagle was progressing in repairs, with main power expected later today. Eagle techs had been brought in, declared it would not be spaceworthy without extensive welding work, but had started shoring up the slices taken from the damaged girderwork, trying to restore some of its structural integrity.

That sad, wounded "bird" would probably never fly into space again and would probably have to be treated gingerly in the air, in terms of keeping it on the ground in windy conditions, and not being too aggressive in flight. Still, a fourth Eagle would be far too helpful to have, even if it might never be allowed to carry more people than a pilot and co-pilot.

She looked down towards the twenty-five others now here. On one hand, she happy she wasn't alone with Tony, yet at the same time, felt unhappy about that. There was no denying she had fallen in love with him. He had changed to some degree, still the same Tony in most ways but more attuned to her, when before, he had probably never considered her his type.

Her thoughts were tormented at the conundrum. Why had fate created this mess? Would she be forced to decide? She had to decide, yet there were the thoughts of the other two men, not to mention the influence that Maya could have as equally as Helena could have. Four individuals, stuck in a confused state. Helena found herself yearning for John too, and it was difficult. She had slept in the same bed with Tony after everyone else's arrival, but that was as far as it had been. Yet now as she thought about him, she felt a surge of warmth again, like it had been too long since....

She shook her head. Too much to do, and little privacy for the moment anyway. She looked down the hill again, enjoying the sight of people milling about, or conversing with each other -- working together, and with Helena.

Even as she watched, she felt strangely watched again. The feelings both she and Tony had about this site seemingly being "too convenient" for survival, even if it had its tough and grinding side, had persisted over the years and even now. Helena knew she was just personifying fate, both cold and warm, that had landed the two of them here, but neither had understood what had landed them here. Neither had unlocked the reason for Unloc. At least it wasn't "unknown location" any more.

She glanced around. Not that this had ever clarified her mind's irrational seeing of shadows where there was nothing. It wasn't a pleasant irrational sense either. When she got it, she sometimes had felt more like she was in a zoo without bars. This feeling, she did not understand at all.

ScreeEEEEeeeccccHHH!!!!

Helena jumped when she heard the bird, whose form evidently had no nice, soft, throaty sounds Maya could use, sounded not that far above her. Maybe it was simply Maya/bird looking down on everything was giving Helena that vague watched feeling this time. She almost laughed, then watched as the giant bird swooped in for a landing, Helena even feeling the wing beats a little.

"Helena, I am sorry," Maya said as soon as she reverted. "I tried to control the hardwired instincts innate to this creature, but its brain'patterns do not really seem to contain a self-muting setting."

At last, a tiny bit of humor from Maya. "Don't worry," Helena said.

They chatted about Maya's impressions for awhile, Helena's mind slipping away from that odd watched feeling.

They eventually got to talking about another topic, however, and Helena, after managing to get Maya to open up just a little, found her conflicted too, but still highly uncomfortable, Maya's voice dropping to almost a whisper, then Helena's too, trying to soothe the Psychon, while herself not being too sure about any of this. Helena, getting nowhere with Maya or about her own feelings, asked Maya about the child, and several "dumb questions" about metamorphic aspects, but here too, Maya was skittish. Helena wanted to directly reassure Maya, but Helena was starting to feel a little angry at the seemingly unkind manipulations of fate, when that same feeling arose again. Manipulated. Why did she feel manipulated now?

"Maya," she said slightly more quietly than before. "How far can you extend your metasense nowadays?"

"What? Oh, it varies on-"

"Just do it, into the woods. Ignore plants if you can."

Maya looked momentarily puzzled, but to forestall a question, Helena cut her off with the most subtle shake of her head, and flicker of her eyes "back" and "over" her shoulder, towards the woods, and Maya promptly understood.

As a sudden tiny breeze swept by, Helena realized one problem was that look of concentration the metamorph would get, of focus, perhaps even more so given the distance.

Helena felt as if this was now pointless, but let Maya finish.

"So?" Helena asked.

"It is difficult when not focusing on a subject. All I have are vague impressions that I'm still... sifting through. A few birds maybe. Something about the size of a rodent. Reptiles. A large fungus. Insects."

"Fungus?"

"Fungi are very different from animals or plants, but 'feel' closer to animals than plants. Were you looking for something?"

"No, I'm not really sure," she said quietly, but then explained, for Maya had probably not heard about the feelings Tony and Helena had mentioned before. At the same time, she was dismissive of her own irrationality, saying to Maya, "It is difficult when there are only two people on the entire planet."

"Even if not your watched impression, I do understand the lonely feeling," Maya said.

ο |||| R-1999/09/15, 0950-1005: Second Thoughts?

John Koenig and Tony Verdeschi sat on chairs at the makeshift brig, an empty residential room that sometimes doubled as a cell.

Tony got up to limp about the room, trying to keep his left leg from cramping after suffering a deep bruise to the thigh. He supposed it could have been worse, such as it being broken, or himself outright dead.

There hadn't exactly been anything in this room to serve as something on which to brace as Area Two exploded for the second time the prior morning.

John had broken a finger in his right hand, which had been attended to hours ago. His somewhat torn uniform had been replaced with another -- conspicuously with a neutral sleeve rather than black.

Yesterday, they, like everyone else, had heard the announcement that a full breakaway from the solar system had occurred. Today, there had been an announcement that Alpha had gotten out a signal on the experimental "Interstellar Strength" system, before crossing the orbits of Neptune and Pluto, back to Earth, managing to pass some limited data on their state, but that it was not clear how much of that would reach Earth. Koenig was curious to know what data that might be.

It was the final part of Morrow's announcement today, however, that was most unexpected to Koenig and Verdeschi.

"As most of you probably know by now," the controller had started, "our entire Moon is almost certain to reach Meta. Maybe there we can find our own new world."

It was startling news, and they both fumed for not being able to do anything to help, or to organize.

"You know it is probably Simmonds who is really in charge," Tony fumed on this too, continuing to move about the room, slowly.

"I think you're right. He probably had a pretty liberal mandate of authority by the ILC, that Paul was likely told to go along with."

"You know, this seems almost worse than Maya expected. Maybe she didn't know what the hell she was talking about as much as we thought."

"Tony...."

"Or as much as she thought."

There was silence for awhile. John did not think Tony was laying blame on Maya or doubting the innocence of her and her friend Alan, and thought maybe this was simply Tony venting about how in the end, the result had been about the same. That abruptly brought John's thoughts around to another person.... "Simmonds is an able if fractious and obviously pig-headed administrator, compromising only when he thinks it is necessary or is just a delaying tactic, but-"

"You said he resumed shipments of waste?"

"A huge shipment -- twenty-seven Eagles worth. I forgot to tell you they went straight for Area Two. They served as a new trigger, for themselves and for the scattered canisters which survived the first blast there."

"I don't think Maya calculated for a pig-headed politician ready to drop his compromise at the first convenient moment," Tony said bitterly.

"Problem is, he is a good politician, sometimes in the worst sense of the phrase rather than the best, and Paul is loyal to authority structures. He'll ask questions at times, but is likely to go along with what Simmonds says, even if Paul is promoted to Commander. Paul is not stupid, but it will take an awfully big misstep by Simmonds to move Paul beyond questions."

"Like right now, with that second blast, I would hope."

John leaned back in his seat. "Problem is, Paul may have been informed of our encounter with an alien and an alternate, and Simmonds could spin our helping them, their flight to Area Two, even just our trying to break up the pile, as a possible trigger. Simmonds doesn't trust Victor at all now either, I suspect."

"I'm beginning to think I ought to be grateful Simmonds can't airlock us or something."

α |||| W-2550 DAB 2000-2020: Metamorphic Rock?

As she said farewell for the day to a number of her friends who had been gathering after hearing about Tony's proposal, Maya was left alone in her quarters, but filled with happiness.

She looked at her new diamond engagement ring again, and smiled, then looked over to the picture Annette had painted of Maya's whole childhood family. The old question did not really return, of whether they would have all approved of this relationship.

She had always had the feeling her mother Taylia would have accepted Maya finding happiness with Tony, who was a good man that made Maya laugh, feel safe, and that she had a home and future in his heart. Wanting to be a mother herself sometime, she had a sense this is what most mothers would probably feel.

Her father Mentor had pleaded with the Commander to save her. Would he have foreseen this? He had scanned the Alphan base, perhaps far more deeply than she had, and must have known Alphan technology was not advanced, and that he was sending her as a perhaps permanent refugee among humans. Even now, with some advancements she had made with them, as a fellow Alphan but with a Psychon past, there was still a long way to go. She couldn't reach her people, if they still existed in this timeline. She had never had much fear he would object: though he would have probably been sad she had not found a home back among Psychons, just as Taylia would have probably felt too. Still, he would have probably been happy that Maya had been given a home somewhere and did not feel alone.

Her brother Telior, she was not so sure. As in some Psychon families, she and her brother were of very different ages, and he was already an adult early in Maya's life, and on Psychon's highest scientific council by the time of Psychon's decline accelerated severely, after which he had soon left. He had encouraged her to leave too. Maybe he would have taken a dimmer view of Maya's Alphan life, though she doubted he would have wanted Maya to spend the rest of her life alone or with no prospect of a permanent mate or children, especially when he had a mate and three children when he had left Psychon. She wasn't sure, however.

These were old thoughts that she could never really resolve further, and now, she was more surprised to find herself not going through them again. Her family's smiles seemed to be happy for her now. It was just Maya's own feelings reflected in a fixed image, she knew.

She glided, as if on a cloud -- a metaphor Psychons and Terrans shared -- over to the box holding a special rock. "In memory of the planet Psychon" was engraved on a strip of metal affixed to the box. It had been found on the Moon's surface within a week of the planet's destruction. The planet had scattered pieces of itself in every direction, and a few had been tracked by Alphan equipment to the Moon. To this day, she opened it up every week or two. It was a box of mixed memories, of course, but she was grateful to have this piece.

It had been much longer this time, though, several weeks, after all the recent mysteries, conversations, and proposal. She opened it now, and promptly frowned. The one multi-hued rock was now broken in two. How did this happen? Wait, these two don't look like.... She had sometimes taken the rock out of the fabric it was sitting among in the box. She almost did so now, but paused to find her latest scanner.

As an officer, she had sat in on a murder investigation, and a few lesser investigative incidents, in order to learn these potential duties as well, and as an adjunct, had learned the importance of gathering evidence, much like gathering scientific data in other contexts. This latest scanner, with a photonic memory system, also had a means of extremely hiresphotosensing in multiple spectra, and recording the results. It could even scan for fingerprints, seeking the subtle alterations in photonic paths taken through the oils left behind.

On one piece, she found only her own fingerprints, Tony's, and those of two friends who had touched it recently. On the other piece, there was nothing. She sometimes polished the rock, and sometimes did not, not feeling in a rush to remove the signs of handling. It was like the two pieces betrayed both sides of her random tendencies on this.

Puzzled but at least doubting vandalism for the moment, she now lifted two pieces. As she turned them about, she realized they did not fit together. Yet they both scanned with Psychon signatures, Maya thought.

She frowned. With the application of certain technologies, Psychon rock was somewhat metamorphic, in the molecular transformation sense rather than the Terran sense of a rock type permanently transformed under heat and pressure. However, transformation technology was still very far out of her grasp here, almost certainly for her lifetime.

She recognized only one of the two rocks as part of the larger piece it had once been. Where the other half of that former piece had gone, she did not know. Where the other piece had come from was an equal mystery. She was aware a few other pieces of Psychon had been collected. The Science Officer decided she had to investigate. If someone was playing a joke on her, it seemed rather bizarre and pointless, and cruelly breaking her existing rock in two to carry it out... no, that wasn't it.

Her sudden working hypothesis was that this was some effect of all the 'transfers' which had occurred recently. Then there was the Collision, also called Confluence by some. Sandra had arrived at what the Communications Officer was also calling Sigma wearing pajamas, but had changed into a yellow-sleeved uniform as she normally wore. She had returned in that uniform and with a commlock. The latter had returned non-functioning, and under disassembly revealed some curious differences.

Other people had returned wearing other clothes or carrying small quantities of things that had not been on αMoonbase before. Some of these objects had potential use, perhaps.

Had a few other objects jumped about from Transfers or Confluence, even away from a person carrying something during a jump? If so, there had been no report that had reached any officer. This surely would have arose in a Command Conference if it had.

Why a rock from Psychon? Was it somehow sensitive to those events? It couldn't have been the cause; the events and indirect signs of tachyons were not found to have an obvious source -- one of the remaining mysteries, among many. Besides, there was the massive scale of the events which had unfolded. Energies widespread in the area they had passed through, it seemed. Now, there was a small new datum and mystery to add to the Transfers and the Confluence. There were probably other objects which had swapped, then, that people had simply not found or noticed yet. She would have to request in Command Conference that everyone search through all their personal and professional belongings for any sign of transformations or transfers.

She decided to contact Victor first. The Professor seemed to have a wisdom of the years, and beyond most of his peoples', for scientific mysteries. She was not surprised to see his commlock status was still active. He seemed to be a "night owl" -- one of Maya's favorite metaphors now.

When she reached him, he was the first to speak beyond introduction: "Maya, my dear, I have heard the wonderful news! Congratulations!"

Leave it to this grandfatherly man to soon reset priorities. She happily let herself be diverted for a few minutes for this, which was definitely not small'talk in the slightest, before letting him bring her back to main'talk. After she discussed the finding, he said something which worried her: "Maybe you should be watching for those indirect tachyon traces again."

"I have been checking occasionally, and writing code. Do you think it is starting again?"

"Or maybe never stopped in some subtle ways, even if we cannot detect them. Or perhaps it did stop, and we'll be finding minor after-effects for awhile."

Ω |||| R-5050 DAB: Omega Moon

The four αtimeline Alphans who had traveled various courses in time and space to end up on the Ωbase had uncovered the presence of the Magus who belonged to the same reality as the nearly-dead base.

He put on more benevolent, less god-like air to the first four Alphans he found misplaced on this 'Omega' base, than the Magus back in their home reality. However, that had evaporated abruptly upon the mysterious arrival of αTony. ΩMagus had shown signs of intense pain, and had abruptly become more deranged than they had seen even in αMagus.

Forced to take action, these five misplaced Alphans had come up with a startling plan: to try to blow up the Moon, in hopes of triggering the same tachyon signatures which seemed to be driving them to jump time and timelines. This Moon had gone through even more shocks than their own Moon, they had found via records, so they set off Area Three, even as ΩMagus reappeared.

Magus was caught off guard. The blast, though not initially with the ferocity of Area Two's, was still far more powerful than Area One's. The tachyon field formed, picking up the displaced Alphans. Magus could not follow. He started a jump back to Haven. But practically in the heart of something akin to a small sun, there was a sudden influx of energy into the light decelerator. This bounced back out as newer, stranger energies, creating a powerful interaction with the Area Three blast, boosting it into something far more powerful than even an ancient Exponential Bomb.

This unleashed energy tore across and into the surface of the Moon, not just shattering the outer layers, but converting much of the mass of this part of the Moon into energy.

This itself would have been "merely" a "small" light show in the area, in terms of interstellar scales, except.... What neither Alphans nor Magus were aware of, provided another surprise.

There was some technology buried in the Moon.

It had mostly slept for eons, simple caretaker systems performing their Watcher job.

Yet it had been disturbed for brief intervals recently -- though 'recently' for such an ancient system was many years. These had triggered 'momentary' reactions in other parts of the technology, only for them all to return to slumber except the Watcher returning to its quiet duty.

Not all of the systems had not been allowed to remain dormant for long. A brief, weak tachyonic event had primed the Prism, and more recent, powerful tachyonic events had activated it. This had triggered the Watcher to "quickly" (in its sense) start activating all the other systems. Still, it was to be a years-long process. There was no hurry about it.

Until suddenly, there was.

There was something the Watcher was not expecting: an immensely powerful influx of energy from the surface of the Moon, tearing into the depths, towards the technology. The Watcher triggered ancient emergency protocols.

The Defender had to protect the Carriage. Forcefields of enormous orders of power, among the strongest this galaxy had ever seen, went up in milliseconds.

The Driver activated just as quickly. The low level of activity that the alien technology always had active even in near-dormancy had been creating a much larger hyperspatial bubble around the Moon than any race would have estimated, and set subtle zonal variations within the field few races could have even noticed.

Now, the Driver took advantage, even as the hyperspatial bubble folded, to 'twist inward' energies on the trailing side of the collapsing bubble, and 'push outward' energies on the leading side, creating opposing forces that further slammed the exploding Moon, adding energies to an already compounded blast, but freeing the technology to head back the way the Moon came, and at the same speed. The Defender protected the Carriage from the sudden force of near-instantaneous course reversal. The systems survived intact, even if partially drained from the abrupt awakening. A hyperspatial bubble formed about the technology, spitting it out of the fast-expanding blast of the Moon. It shot out of the chaos, and left the light of the explosion behind, while the Defender protected against some hyperspatial effects as well.

One blast had interacted with a light decelerator to magnify the initial explosion, and this in turn had triggered a staggering reaction from more technology, to again greatly magnify the blast.

Left behind normal space, Luna continued to become unexpected Nova, a catastrophic explosion of light and other energy expanding at nearly three-hundred thousand kilometers per second, followed by expanding matter -- not far from the star system the Moon had just left.

(End of Part 1 of Bridge Four)

"Echoes" (by Meredith Kausch) follows one of the timelines at a later point in its time. This story was released in August 2010.

Part 2 of Bridge Four is currently under development, and will follow, though not for several months.

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