Free The Void by Brett J. Talley Page B

whirring buzz. He felt two pads press lightly against his temples. The sounds of the outside world disappeared as his ears were covered. A flash of light followed, and Cyrus felt like he was
    falling away from reality and into something else. Then another flash, and he was no longer on the ship.
    He stood in the midst of the breakfast nook of a kitchen. His kitchen. The windows were open, the bright light of the sun streaming through, the breeze blowing the curtains up in great white billows.
    “Daddy!” Emily cried. He turned and saw her running toward him.
    “Hey, shrimp,” he said, bending down and picking her up. As he did, impulses gathered by the synthetic's neural network were sent in an instant across millions of miles of space via warp tunnel relays. It was a means of communication that was expensive and drained a great deal of energy. Crew were permitted only one such call, and only immediately prior to jump.
    “I'm not a shrimp!” She giggled on queue.
    He, or the synthetic, rubbed his hands through Emily's curly auburn hair. He felt the resistance of each strand and its coarse, scratchy texture, as clear as if he were there himself.
    “Emily?” he heard his wife call.
    “Momma, it's Daddy!” she squealed, with the unbridled enthusiasm of the young and innocent.
    Cyrus raised himself up and looked at his wife. She put her hands on her hips and smiled back, though he saw the same fear on her face as always. It was almost cruel to make these calls before the jump, the most dangerous time of all. How many had made their last call this way, one foot home, one in the unknown?
    They chatted for a few minutes about nothing. It was awkward, as it always was. His wife had never gotten used to the synthetics, and even though a customized image of Cyrus was projected onto its skin (one he had designed himself, with slightly less heft and a little more muscular definition than the real thing), it still made her uneasy. But it didn't matter. He couldn't keep her long. And he didn't have much to say. Nothing but that he loved them and he hoped he would be home soon.
     
    *  *  *
     
    Rebecca sat at a table, staring down at the latest communiqué Jack Crawford had received from the command. The same blurry image of a strange, arrow-shaped ship as before, no real information except a guess based on its configuration. And its location, just beyond the Anubis system. She took a deep breath and looked up at him as he walked over to her.
    “I think we should tell them.”
    Crawford didn't look surprised. Setting down the cup of tea he had made for Rebecca and sitting across from her, he leaned forward, his hands flat on the table.
    “And why do you say that?”
    She hesitated. It had taken her all morning to work up the courage to say it, but she had expected a different response. Jack had a reputation for never straying from the mission, for sticking to the present parameters at all costs. It was one of the reasons his assistance was valued above many other agents. It was also a sign of the importance central command placed on this mission that he was here, with her. But now, even though she was suggesting they break protocol, Jack seemed entirely too calm. Almost disinterested. She could have handled yelling. She wasn't prepared for reasonable.
    “Well,” she said, “they seem like good people, the crew, and no one likes to be deceived. We both know they will find out eventually. You know how they are going to react. Why not tell them now? We will need them, Jack. I can't do this alone.”
    Jack leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I guess telling you this is not up for debate won't suffice.”
    “No, Jack. No it won't. Because you know I'm right.”
    “No, Rebecca, I don't. You know our orders.” She started to protest, but he held up a hand. “Look, we've been over this a hundred times. The computer will drop out of warp automatically when it reads a derelict ship in normal space. This is a