Winter World (The Long Winter #1)(104)

“It would have no meaning for you. You call me the harvester. A descriptor. An apt one. In truth, I am merely a collector.”

“Of stellar energy.”

“Correct.”

The entity pauses, then says, “Call me Art.”

I sense that everything this being does has a purpose. Including this seemingly arbitrary choice of name. Art. It’s a name that evokes beauty, something we love. Art is complex, often misunderstood, often only appreciated over the course of time. It’s talking to us for one reason: it needs something from us. If not, we would already be dead.

“How do you know our names?” James asks.

The screen changes to a video taken in the debris field. One of the Sparta One modules is floating against the black backdrop of space, in pieces, shredded. It’s the weapons module. The video must have been taken from one of the bug-like rovers the harvester launched.

The rover lands on the module and crawls across the surface. It peeks over the edge of a jagged opening. Inside the module is a body clinging to the bulkhead. Oscar.

The rover scampers over the side and propels itself into the module toward Oscar. The machine’s tiny arms have three fingers each. They grab Oscar and turn him. Glassy eyes stare out. How are his eyes still intact?

Then, to my shock and horror, Oscar’s eyes scan the rover. He holds up an arm to defend himself.

How could I not have seen it?

Of course.

It was right in front of me the whole time.

Oscar isn’t human.





Chapter 54





James





From the moment I saw that first message, I knew talking to the harvester was a risk. But I had to do it. This is our only chance to find out what we’re dealing with. I know this much: the harvester wants something. It’s talking to us because it believes it can glean some advantage from doing so. It has an end game here.

I glance at the clock. Less than seven minutes until the attack drones reach it.

Emma fixes me with a stare that’s a mix of shock and betrayal. I probably should’ve told her about Oscar, but it would’ve led to other questions—questions I wasn’t ready to answer.

I have to focus on the issue at hand: the entity, Art, has no doubt read Oscar’s biochemical storage array. It has access to all of his memories. This is not a contingency I planned for. What Oscar knows about me, and Emma, and more importantly, about the ship, and about humanity’s survival plans… it’s enormous, right down to the blueprints of the Citadel, the number of nukes we’ve retrofitted, and the locations of every camp in the Atlantic Union. His mind is a treasure trove of sensitive data. This is a breach we can’t recover from. I have to destroy the harvester. There’s no choice now.

On the screen, the harvester’s avatar, sitting in the ridiculous library scene, looks amused.

“Emma, you didn’t know?” it says innocently.

Thankfully, she makes no reaction. In fact, she keeps her face neutral and turns her focus to him, not me, showing solidarity.

Her move seems to embolden Art. I get the sense it’s trying to rattle us.

“You two have been keeping all kinds of secrets from one another,” it says.

The screen fades to one of Oscar’s memories. In it, he’s in one of the barracks in Camp Seven. I wasn’t aware that he ever went to the barracks. What is this? Could it be a fabrication?

Emma knocks on a door, and Abby answers it. The scene flashes forward, to Emma and Abby talking at a dining table.

“I’m saying that the only reason you and your family are here is James,” Emma says.

The scene skips forward, to Emma putting her hands on the table and interlacing her fingers. “James means a great deal to me. I don’t know what happened between you and him or his brother and him, or even why he was sent to prison. But I’ve gotten to know him very well, and I know he’s a very good person.”

The scene flashes again, to Abby asking a question.

“You mentioned a new habitat?”

“Yes. Next to the one I share with James and Oscar.”

The mention of Oscar’s name draws a sneer from Abby.

“I’m sensing there’s a catch.”

“There’s not. I know that James wants the best for you all. And I know that if he asked for the habitat for you, you might learn that he had done it—and refuse to accept it. So I did it instead. It’s yours. No strings attached. You can move whenever you’re ready. The transfer has already been approved.”

Abby seems confused by that. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

“I ask only one thing, and it’s not a requirement. Only a request.”

“Which is?”

“That you come and visit James. If Alex doesn’t want to come, then simply drop off the kids, or you and the kids can come by. That’s all.”

The scene in the barracks fades and Oscar is standing in the Camp Seven habitat he shared with Emma and me. Emma is sitting on the couch with Abby.

“James is going on a mission.”

“What kind of mission?” Abby asks.

“The kind he might not come back from.”

Abby glances away, trying to process the news. “I see.”

“I don’t know when the mission will happen. Probably within a few months, if I had to guess.”