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Artemis is dead.
A laugh cracks it way up my throat.
I should have known. Deep down I think I did, just didn’t want to think too hard about it, didn’t want it to be true.
The image of them flickers before me, ever patient as I feel my whole world shatter around me, glass raining around my visor and reflecting my own broken image back in on itself.
The atlas shard continues its contented twirl at my hip, but all I can see is my (friend?), their form half faded as the message cuts in and out, the echo of a memory that has been calling out to me through the galaxy finally releasing its final cry, leaving only a suffocating silence in my head, the interface screaming that this can't be it, it can't simply end this way.
The message is fading, but I don't want to let go yet – my hand reaches out on its own, reaching for Artemis, reaching for this entity I've been chasing for a time that I can't count.
“Don't go,” I whisper.
The hologram fades more, an echo finally dissipating into nothing.
“Don’t go” I cry, the words breaking through the translators.
I have to tell Apollo. Though I have only spoken to them briefly, I feel a kinship toward them. The way they spoke of Artemis suggests they were once friends, as well. Until Artemis was lost.
Lifting my head is a challenge, it seems that when Artemis's holoform winkend out, so did all my strength.
It's odd. How quickly you can fall for someone when it feels you've known them your whole life.
I cast my gaze along the horizon, depressing the command button on my gauntlet to send out a planetary scan.
Off in the distance a signal winks to life, a Holo-Terminus not far off. 500 paces. I could take to my ship, over this rough terrain it might be faster, but instead I turn until it is in the center of my display, placing a marker, and I start walking.
My plan is to think of what to say to Apollo once the communicators are open. Instead I walk in a haze. I don't remember making it to the tower but suddenly I am at the top, inputting Apollo's data.
It's only when the loud drone of an error sounds that I am snapped back to the present. Alarmed, I looked down at the terminal.
//ERROR// USER OVERRIDE//
.
.
.
-null-
The communication pod popping out of its casing and rising quickly upward startles me, and I have to jump back in order to avoid being hit by it. As it floats its course up to the projector, I follow slowly behind, unsure. A golden glow flashes signaling an incoming transmission, and I stand with apprehension as the light begins to bend and take shape.
The figure that stands before me is like none I've ever seen before. They are tall and slender, the light emanating from their head casting rainbow prisms across the ground, cut by the gyrating half loops that cross over and under each other as their form solidifies.
“Ah, it's you.”
Their voice fills my head, coming not from the projection but from somewhere within my very core. They are inside my head; it is not a wholly unwelcome sensation.
The being before me stands with an air of confidence stemmed from real experience. This lifeform is old, that much is easy to tell. But there is something just brushing the back of my mind, a familiarity that comes from like souls, a brief flash of crimson sparks behind my eyes before it is gone and I have forgotten what it is I was even musing about before the entity speaks again.
“You can still save them, you know.”
The words take a moment to register. “What?”
If this -null- had eyes I imagine they have rolled them, their voice in my head holding just the barest touch of exasperation, as if this is information I should already know.
“Artemis. You have their data chip right?”
I have to resist the urge to touch my belt pouch where the chip is stashed. “How do you know that?”
“I know a great deal many things, like how to bring Artemis back.”
“You can't bring things back from the dead. . .” Even as I say the words I am turning the thought over in my mind.
Perhaps they don’t intend to bring Artemis back from the dead. Perhaps Artemis didn't die.
-null- can sense that I am on the right track, their amusement at my hesitation flowing through the odd link that we have established. “I can make you a Mind Arc, for Artemis. All you have to do is get the necessary components.”
A Mind Arc? I think, confused. Suddenly my head is filled with partial schematics, images, a small cylindrical device meant to prolong a life for a short amount of time – for just enough time. I know that I have never heard of such a thing before, so these ideas must have come from -null-.
The thought is a bit disconcerting.
“What's in it for you?”
-null- regards me silently for a moment, their form flickering in the Terminal. There is a brief second of fear in me, that they will simply end the transmission, and I will be left with wondering.
When they speak again, it is with an air of finality, of ultimatum, and I know that I must make a choice – even without all the answers I desire.
“Do you accept my offer?” They ask, brushing off my last inquiry.
Something stirs within me – grief, apprehension, hope, maybe. It's hard to say exactly what it is sending my stomach into tight knots and gripping my chest. My heart is in my throat and my head feels fuzzy, scattered like the stars that hang above us, watching. Always watching.
I know nothing about this lifeform or their intentions. But on the other hand, if there is a chance that I can save Artemis. . . what other option is there?
I take a shaky breath.
“Yes.”
—————
The Atlas stares into me, its essence wraps me up and fills me with emotions that I don’t have the name of. I see the ending of the beginning and the beginning of the end.
The fear laces through me, the unknown and endless.
It's all I've ever known. It's like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
I have no form, I have no name, but something calls to me, some voice that is both young and old, lost to time and ringing through it.
//TRAVELER//
I give myself to the Atlas.
—————
It's just a dull, aching red
“Do you feel Crimson?” Nada asks me again. I can feel my core restricting, there's not enough air to fill my reserves. And Nada, patient Nada – their facial display regards me calmly, dimmed for the low light of their workspace so that there is no harsh glare.
Even so, I can see my own display reflected in theirs, my finials tilted, lights too bright.
Something comes over me – Fear. That if Nada knows, knows that I cannot remember my journeys to the atlas stations, that they will cast me out. Am I a traitor?
I lie. “No.'' The word is bitter, biting in a way I hadn't expected until it had left my comms. Lying to Nada feels wrong, dirty and repugnant, the thought of telling the truth terrifies me.
Nada looks at me a moment longer, studying me, and I feel as if they can see right through me.
“Good,” they say at last. “Good,” they repeat, more to themselves, voice barely a whisper. They turn back to their workbench, picking up a small bag and holding it out to me, setting it in my palms when I reach up on autopilot. I don't have to look to know what it is, the quicksilver totems weigh heavy in my palm. “Go and speak with Polo,” Nada says, and I feel the dismissal burn through me. There is something in their tone. Not disappointment, but worry. It's not unusual. With everything on Nadas shoulders they tend to worry about things, but the difference is that that worry is cosmic, coming from threats outside of our control. This? This worry was my fault. But I still can't bring myself to admit fully to Nada my dealings with -null- or the Atlas, or what I have done along the way.
Perhaps it is for the best.
It's just a dull, aching red.
—————
“You can either bring Artemis back or let them go.” Nada says gently, reaching out to place a hand over mine as I grip the mind Arc. It's an action I didn't expect. Nada has never been one to give physical affection, but I can feel the care emanating from them in waves, the worry that is uniquely that of a parent and their child. I look up at their display, which is pulsing warmly as they continue. “But if you bring them back and they realize that they are no longer the same as they were it may cause them great pain.”
I shut down my visuals against the feeling, the burning that rises in my chest. I know this task. I can either bring Artemis back, give them more time, or I can end their suffering here and now. The Vy’keen knowledge stone that gave me the vision of the creature in pain and the pet rat at the observatory. It's like they were pre programmed encounters, the universe knowing that ultimately I would end up right here, right now. In Nadas embrace holding what remained for the first Traveler I encountered besides myself.
Nada’s hand moves to my arm as I begin turning the mind arc over slowly in my hands. I am thankful for their touch as it works to ground me.
I think about what we could have been together, me and Artemis, even Apollo – and -null-. I still know so little about where I come from, about who I am and why I am called TRAVELER. Maybe Artemis has the answers I'm looking for. They seemed to know me in their messages, broken as they were.
But if I brought them back, even if the simulation would mimic reality, they would be trapped. The one thing I know of Travelers is we were meant to explore the stars. What kind of existence would they have living in a cage, unable to leave.
Suddenly I wish Apollo were here. They were friends also. They had spoken recently, Apollo remembers Artemis, which is more I can say for myself. Perhaps they would know the course to take.
That thought had barely finished in my head when I am stabbed with a pang of guilt. They do not need this on their shoulders. I do not need to put them in that position.
And am I so selfish that I need to think over the options? Would I trap Artemis, would I make excuses for my actions of simply wanting to give them more time, do I have an ulterior motive in this?
Thoughts are swirling around my head too fast for me to process, slipping from my fingers every time I try to get a solid grasp on them.
Sensing my turmoil, Nada squeezes my arm gently to draw my attention. I power visuals back up to look at them.
“Whatever decision you make, we will be here for you,” they say, releasing my arm and stepping back, turning to look over their shoulder at Polo, who chirps happily when my gaze lands on him.
I can't help but smile.
“Polo has a way of making you see things more clearly, without the cloud of the past, but instead with the lens of the future.” Nada said fondly, and for a moment I can push my own hurt aside and really look at the priest. I can hear the soft humming coming off of Nada as they look across the room to the Gek scientist. Glancing back at me, Nada tilts their head toward Polo, and I am overwhelmed with emotion. Nada has begun to copy my mannerisms. I have noticed it the past few times I have visited them, but nothing had been as explicit as that simple tilting of their head.
I nod back to them, still clutching the Mind Arc to my chest. I take the few steps that will put me in front of the scientist, slower than I normally would, my feet heavy with the weight on my heart.
Polo’s eyes follow me, but I don't feel scrutinized. He is merely waiting for me to approach. The roiling in my core subsides slightly.
“Nada worries, Artemis worried, you worry.” Polo says once I am standing in front of him. I hold out the mind arc for him to inspect. And he places a small hand reverently on the cylindrical device, chirping quietly, his eyes wide in awe. Even after living as long as he has, seeing the things he has seen, he still finds beauty in the world around him. “So much worry when there is so much Wonder.”
It takes him a minute to look back up at me, so entranced in the tech as he is. And I find myself chuckling at the apologetic look he gives before handing the cylinder back to me.
Polo’s eyes are large, and there is a multitude of emotions passing through them. But underneath it all I see something that steals my breath.
Pride.
Polo stands at his full height, barely reaching my hip, and looks up at me with pride.
I clutch the mind arc tighter, and Polo rests a hand over mine. “No matter your choice, we are proud of you, we will support you.”
I have to close my eyes against the onslaught of emotions, and I sink to my knees before the scientist, bringing us to eye level. Polo's hand moves from my hand to the top of my helm, gently caressing the fine filament there.
“Your journey has been long, Artemis’s has been longer. You have both found many worlds in your journeys, seen many things. There will always be more, whether we are here to see it or not. The suns will still shine.”
I nod, though I don't fully comprehend the words around the muddled thoughts in my head, I store the audio for later.
“Take your time.” Nada’s voice sounds from behind me. I look up as they step around me to stand beside Polo, resting a hand on the scientist's shoulder and reaching out to caress the side of my face not under the Gek’s hand. “When you are ready, go to my holo chamber. You will know what to do once there. I will help you.”
And I know what I have to do.
So I stand, Nada and Polo’s hands falling from my helm.
I grip the Mind Arc.
And I say goodbye.