Aurora's End (The Aurora Cycle #3)(26)

“Still here,” Lieutenant Kim reminds us.

“Sorry,” Scarlett smiles. “We’re trying to wrap our heads around all this, too. Believe us, we’re almost as lost as you are. But in our time, the Betraskans are Terra’s closest allies. We just left a battle back in 2380, and one of the last things we saw before all … this”—she waves about us—“was the Betraskan fleet showing up to protect Earth.”

I can see the lieutenant wants to ask more questions about our timeline, but she holds her tongue, and for that I am grateful. It is not efficient to think of what we have left behind. Who we have left behind.

“So what the hell is all”—she mimics Scarlett’s wave—“this, then?”

“That is precisely what we are attempting to determine.”

She looks me over, eyes lingering on mine. “So attempt. Because as far as I’m concerned, it’s still even odds you’re all bleach-head spies.”

“Listen, Dirtgirl,” Fin begins. “Maybe you wanna give the blea—”

“Friends here,” Scarlett chimes, patting Fin’s arm and smiling brightly at the lieutenant. “All friends, remember?”

“There are two possibilities,” I say. “Either a catalyst event occurred where we were, throwing us back in time and creating this anomaly …”

“Like being directly in the path of a massive ancient psychic superweapon as it was fired?” Scarlett asks.

“… or the catalyst event occurred here,” I continue, “drawing us back to this moment in time.”

“Potentially both,” Finian murmurs.

I nod. “What have you been experiencing, Lieutenant Kim?”

Our guest considers the question. I am not a good judge of emotion, but it seems to me that although she is still wary, some of the tension has momentarily left the air. She is at least attempting to cooperate for now.

“I’m out flying patrol six minutes ago when you suddenly show up on my scopes,” she says. “We talk, I blast you, everything resets. We don’t talk, I blast you, everything resets. I take you over to the station, you get shot, everything resets. Every time you die, I end up back exactly where I was six minutes ago.”

My mind is settling, and I realize that this sense of comfort comes from having a problem to solve. This is something I know how to do. I will gather data. I will analyze. It will be good to be busy.

“What was happening here six minutes ago?”

The lieutenant chews her lip. Even to me, it is obvious she is reluctant, distrustful. But finally she speaks. “The station was running a test. There was some kind of … power fluctuation. I saw a sphere of dark light, thousands of klicks across, engulfing my ship. All my instruments went haywire. And when it cleared … your ship was right there.”

“What kind of test?” I ask.

Scarlett nods. “What does this station actually do, Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant Kim looks around us, and for the first time, she shows a hint of the panic she must be feeling. “Hell if I know. Classified Terran military ops.”

“It seems intelligence gathering must be our first course of action,” I declare. “If we arrived at the precise moment this test was being conducted, it is a reasonable assumption the test may have precipitated said arrival. We must determine this station’s purpose.”

“How?” Fin asks. “Last time we went over there, they shot us on sight.”

“Maybe we could talk to them?” Scarlett offers. “I mean, if they’re experiencing this time loop too …”

“Negative,” Kim says, shaking her head. “I don’t think anyone on the station has any clue this is happening. The first few times I reset, before comms dropped, I radioed Glass Slipper asking for instructions. I got the same responses every time. Word for word. They acted like nothing was wrong. I mean, aside from the core breach and whatever else is going on over there right now.”

“Dunno what you expected,” Fin says. “You tethered yourselves to a DM storm chasing quantum pulse hits. In case I wasn’t clear before, that’s like wading into a pen full of Mondorian valshins and unzipping your pants.”

He is met with three blank stares.

“No? You don’t have … Well, let’s just say it’s inadvisable.”

Scarlett pouts in thought, looking at Kim. “If our arrival caused all this, and your ship was the only thing near us, that might explain why you’re stuck in the loop with us while nobody else knows it’s happening.”

“Huh,” Kim says, tilting a glance at Scarlett that suggests surprise that she has made such a perceptive point. But it is a sensible supposition.

“We must know more,” I declare. “Knowledge is key. We have twenty-eight minutes until that second quantum pulse we witnessed hits the sail, and then the station, which may disable vital components within. And if the station core is breaching, it is only a matter of time before the station itself is disabled. We should proceed.”

“With what?” asks Lieutenant Kim, wary once more.

“With establishing the facts,” I reply. “The precipitant appears constant, but without further data, the persistent nature of the temporal anomaly cannot be assumed to be without a rate of decay.”