The Loneliest Girl in the Universe(40)

I open up the guidance system, loading a map of the galaxy. Then I return to the communications software and export the code that controls the coordinate scanning. After some trial and error, I manage to import the code to the guidance system and create an almost functional mapping device.

I zoom in to the coordinates in the range [ICRFJ001500.0+300000] to [ICRFJ002400.0+500000], which I think should narrow the search field enough to pick up both mine and J’s ships visibly on the screen. Then I scan for nearby transmitters.

The Infinity pops up first, a tiny white oval on the black map. Then The Eternity’s icon appears, a blip that, to my disappointment, is still a huge distance away from The Infinity. I suppose closeness is relative in space. Just because we can talk now doesn’t mean J’s not still millions of kilometres away.

I’m about to shut down the map when another icon pops up on the screen. It’s labelled UPR. It’s in the same place as The Eternity.

I freeze, staring at the screen. The program must have made a mistake. The UPR’s headquarters are on Earth – they definitely aren’t in space with J and me.

It’s such a strange, impossible error that I restart the scanner, unsure how it could have imagined that the UPR are close by. The second time, the results are the same. The UPR pops up alongside The Eternity.

I don’t understand. I can’t make sense of any of this. I stare at the screen as my brain refuses to accept what I’m seeing. It looks like…

I rub my eyes, then read it again.

There must be an error with the software. This can’t be possible.

I shake my head and close down the program. It’s kind of funny, in a way. The Eternity and the UPR are seventeen trillion kilometres apart. I force myself to smile. What a silly mistake.

Abruptly, I stand up and walk across the room. Then I stop and turn back to stare at the computer.

I should prove it’s a mistake. Just to be absolutely certain. It will only take a few seconds. If I check the UPR’s emails and find their real coordinates on Earth, then it will be obvious that the scanning software has got it wrong.

After walking back to the computer, I go into my emails. I access the source code of the raw transmission data from the last email I received from the UPR, searching for the origin coordinates. They must be hidden somewhere in the code.

When I find them, the coordinates are listed as being somewhere in space again. Not on Earth at all. This isn’t just a malfunction with the audio program or guidance software. This is … something else. Something I don’t understand.

Going through the last ten messages from the UPR, I plot out the coordinates and display them on my map. Every message was sent from a different place. The coordinates follow a straight line between Earth and The Infinity, as if whatever is transmitting the messages is getting closer to me every time. The messages from the UPR follow the path of The Eternity.

The coordinates don’t lie. Every message from the UPR is coming from the same route as The Eternity.

Nothing makes any sense. I check the origin coordinates of my messages from J, clinging desperately to the hope that there’s been some kind of computer error.

Every email sent from J and the UPR has had matching coordinates for the last six months. Both have come from the same place every single time. How can the UPR be emailing me from The Eternity?

I can only think of one explanation, but my mind refuses to accept it. It’s impossible.

Fear weighs down my ribs, forcing my breaths back inside my lungs instead of letting them free.

Someone on The Eternity has been sending emails to me as the UPR.

No.

It’s insane. Even just the idea is a betrayal of J, of our friendship. I don’t believe it. There’s no way in the universe that J – my lovely, sweet, considerate J – would ever, ever do anything like this. He would never hurt me.

Would he?

I go back and check every single message the transmitter has picked up in the last year, lining them up on my map until the evidence is undeniable. They all come from The Eternity.

I stand up and start pacing the room again. How can I process what I’ve discovered in a way that makes sense?

Abruptly, I return to the computer. I add Molly’s emails to the map, just to double-check that this isn’t some weird problem with the transmission data. Her old messages are all sourced as coming from Earth, just as they should be. This isn’t a strange quirk of the technology.

I keep adding messages, trying to find the moment the error began. Finally, I add the most recent messages from Molly, when she told me that a war was starting on Earth, so she wouldn’t be able to talk to me for a while.

They came from The Eternity.

I redo my work to make sure I haven’t made a mistake, but it’s correct. Molly’s final messages came from The Eternity, not from Earth.

Those last few messages from her, telling me about NASA’s communication problems and the war – they were emails, I realize in horror. Not her normal audio messages. I never heard her voice – her actual voice – say anything about the war. Only the emails did. The ones from The Eternity.

Was there ever even a war at all? Was the whole thing made up? Is the UPR even real? Or is it—

Is it fake?

I try to swallow. My mouth tastes of the iron-rich rush of blood. Maybe there’s someone else on The Eternity sending these messages to me. It can’t be him. It’s not in J’s nature to lie. Is it?