how he is in the future yet, Jimmy. He’s… creepy.”
“I get it,” Jimmy says. “He’s a strange kid. And he’s sundamned creepy now. But when we told him we were escaping and he had to come with us in the last loop, did he resist?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “He didn’t. I don’t remember what he said when we told him all this shit. I was way too wound up. But he agreed immediately and that’s all I had time to care about. Without him we never would’ve made it.”
“I think we should go ask him.”
And just as he says that, the double doors to the dining room open again. I hold my breath for a moment, expecting—and maybe even hoping—that it will be Corla. But it’s not.
It’s Tray.
“Speak of the fucking weirdo himself,” Jimmy says. “Tray, my man. You’re just the little freak we need.”
Tray stands there in the doorway and just stares at us.
“Tray?” I ask.
“Why am I here?”
“I dunno,” Jimmy says. “But it’s a good thing you are. Because we’re blowing this place tomorrow night, dude. And we need your help.”
Tray looks at Jimmy, then me. He squints his eyes. “I just had this weird vision, you guys. It was like a dream, but so real. It was like I was there. And…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I’m here. I just suddenly had this overwhelming urge to find you two.”
“Look,” I say, walking towards him. “I know this is all going to sound crazy, but we really just need you to—”
“Do what you’re told.” Tray finishes my sentence.
“Y-yeah. Yeah. That. Exactly.”
“OK,” Tray says in his emotionless voice, which has always been lacking in the emotion department, but ever since he came back from cryogenetics last week, it’s even more dispassionate. “OK. What do I need to do?”
Jimmy fills him in.
First, we need to see Princess Corla. Because there won’t be any escape tomorrow night if she’s not the one in charge. She had the codes to get through the ALCOR gate. She had the plan. I know what we did that night, but I don’t really understand how we did it.
“Then,” Jimmy says, ready to feed him the rest of the plan, “we need to get Corla to a pod and—”
But Tray stops him with a raised hand. “If you don’t mind. I don’t need that part of the plan right now. I’m having trouble processing. One thing at a time.” He looks at me. “I’ll get better at this. Eventually.”
I know what he’s talking about.
Back then, I would not have understood. Probably would’ve wasted a lot of time trying to make him explain what they did to him and why he’s having trouble processing.
Maybe I don’t know the specifics of what exactly happened to Tray during this time twenty-one years ago, but I understand the consequences.
They took his… humanity.
And right now is not the time to have that conversation. So I say, “Whatever. Just get us to the princess.”
Getting us to the princess involves all kinds of technical shit I have no clue about. Just one more reminder that I’m not really necessary for the success of anything. I mean, sure, I’m Corla’s sperm donor. But who cares? Does this universe really need my offspring?
They don’t seem to be doing much of anything but fucking things up in my present.
The Akeelians seem to need my offspring. And the Cygnians seem to need my offspring.
But that’s it. And they’re the bad guys. So wouldn’t it be better if we just nixed the whole idea of Corla and me having kids in the first place?
Seems logical to me.
I’m the oldest, so I was the leader back on the escape ship. I was the one who talked to ALCOR. But I didn’t carry some secret code for him to decipher. I didn’t matter at all after we got there. I was just his… his plucky sidekick.
I laugh out loud. Because I’m pretty sure no one has ever called me ‘plucky’.
Jimmy shoots me a weird look. We’re in some control room watching Tray do his thing with the quantum AI that runs the station. It’s not an AI the way ALCOR is. It’s smart as fuck, but it has to follow directions. It has no free will at all.
“OK,” Tray says, backing away. “I’ve taken all the vent sensors offline for the next hour. But you have to go alone, Crux.”
“What?” Jimmy complains. “But I’ll miss out on the princesses.”
“Jimmy,” I say, clapping him on