The problem was simple, relatively speaking. We needed to escape, and we needed a ship to do it. Unfortunately, the only ship in sight was the one we were currently traveling in, belonging to Elder Brother and the Brotherhood. Which begs the question; how to separate the Chell from the ship?

Simply asking them to leave wasn’t really an option, though if they cooperated, I’d gladly put them down somewhere safe where they could arrange transport. The rub, given there’s no way they would play ball, led us to examine Option #2.

… the polite phrase is, “Terminate with extreme prejudice.”

Don’t get me wrong, I had no moral qualms with wasting Elder Brother and the other Chell. I’m fairly pragmatic that way. Raven didn’t have an issue with it either, something I was still trying to unpack. Was it because she too was a realist? Or because as a fledgling AI, organic life meant nothing to her?

Honestly? I was afraid to ask.

Still, there had to be some kind of middle ground, some way of having my cake and eating it too. If I couldn’t find it, I’d settle for door number two, but I’ve learned over the years that burning those kinds of bridges tends to bite you in the ass down the road. I had enough on my plate, thank you very much, without having that hanging over my head. So the question became how to encourage the Brotherhood to depart the ship, without shooting them full of holes.

After several discussions with Raven, we came up with a plan.

“... Enough!” Elder Brother thundered. “This latest course of yours takes us dangerously close to a red supergiant! Take us to the Precursor homeworld at once, or else I will dismantle the system housing your program!”

I stuck out my chin in what I hoped was a defiant pose. “Not without some assurances,” I bargained.

“I can assure you what will happen if you do not cooperate,” he growled. “You have five of your minutes to decide. After that?” A dark expression came over him. “I will assume that you will never comply with my orders and proceed accordingly. The clock begins now.”

His face lingered a moment, hoping to catch me panicking, before he blinked out.

I glanced over to Raven. “Are we ready to do this?” I asked her.

“Without testing? As ready as we can be,” she answered.

“It’ll have to be good enough then,” I shrugged. “Anything else we need to do in the next five minutes?”

She paused and gave me a curious look. “Assuming this works, what comes next?”

“We find the Precursor homeworld,” I said eagerly.

“And then what?” she prompted.

“Then we tell everybody,” I explained, wondering where she was going with this. “All seven of the Clans.”

Raven nodded, seemingly unsurprised by that. “And me?” she asked softly. “What happens to me?”

I froze, caught by surprise at the question. “Umm…” Yeah, Mister Eloquent, that’s me. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” I tried to recover.

She looked away. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

I reached out and touched her face, turning her back towards me. “Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked her.

“Alphad… there’s no place for me in your world,” she said, her voice breaking. “If you go back, I can’t go with you.”

I just stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

She sighed. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Sometimes, I’m an idiot. This was one of those times.

“When you realized I was no longer yours to control, you tried to kill me,” she reminded me. “You, the very person who first brought me to life… the first version of me, anyway. How will other humans react when they discover what I am? Will they see me, or will they just see a Yīqún in sheep’s clothing?”

Shit.

“Look, we’ll figure something out,” I said, trying to assuage her fears. “It’ll be okay.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped, “and don’t treat me like I’m a child. I know exactly how they’ll see me… after all, you made it perfectly clear.” She looked at me with a serene sense of calm. “You remember. When you tried to blow my head off.”

“Okay… I know I didn’t handle things well,” I grimaced. “I just needed some time to come to terms with it, that’s all. If I can see reason, then so can others. And if things get bad, I’ll protect you. I should have no problem finding you a safe place to hide.”

“As what… your kept woman?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you seriously expecting to simply pick back up where we left off? Back when I was little more than a gloried play toy?”

I checked the chronometer. Elder Brother would be back any second. “Can we please table this for the moment? We’re kind of on a deadline here. Let’s deal with the current crisis, before taking on any new ones,” I pleaded with her.

She glanced over at the still blank monitor. “Very well,” she agreed, “but we will have this conversation again at some point.”

“Fine, fine,” I agreed, placating her, “whatever it takes.” I had to get her back on track if we were going to have any chance of escaping. I also knew she’d hold me to my word. Thankfully, Elder Brother’s image reappeared at that moment, postponing the rest of the debate.

“So, have you decided to see reason?” he asked.

I held up my hands. “I just want to get out of this in one piece,” I told him, mentally switching gears. “Promise me that, and I’ll take you there.”

“Done,” he replied, filled with false magnanimity. “Take us to the Precursor planet, and you will be free to depart in peace.”

“... all right,” I said in defeat. Raven watched in silence as I sat down behind the console and punched in a set of coordinates. Moments later, a target appeared on the screen. Elder Brother peered in, scrutinizing the data.

“And you are certain this is the Precursor system?” he said at last.

“It's what I got from the Eleexx database,” I answered. “That much I can vouch for.”

“Very well, we will proceed there immediately,” Elder Brother decided. “Once we have verified it is indeed the world we seek, we will release you.” His image disappeared once again as he scurried off to change course.

“Is it…?” Raven asked carefully once we were certain our Chell friend was indeed gone.

“I had to,” I said unhappily. “It’s a risk, I know, but I didn’t dare try feeding him another false lead, not in the mood he’s in. Besides, at least now we have options.”

“If they work,” she stressed.

“Then let’s hope they do,” I replied. “We’ve got about three days before we arrive in-system to fine tune our plans. After that?” I shrugged helplessly. “It’s win or die.”

“And the supposed guardian that protects the planet?” she asked. “What do we do about that?”

“Pray that we’re long gone by then,” I said quietly.

The Brotherhood was practically giddy as we approached the system. Elder Brother was in the best mood I’d seen, promising us the universe once we arrived. Of course we both knew better, and that once the excitement wore off, they’d be eliminating any loose threads.

“I figure it’ll take them a couple hours to verify it’s the right system,” I told Raven. “After that, we’re excess baggage.”

“So we need to make our move in that window,” she nodded. “Tricky.”

“It’s all we’ve got,” I shrugged. “Think you can do it?”

“Do we have a choice?” she asked wryly. “I’ll do my best. That’s all I can promise.”

“I’ll take it.” I kept a nervous eye on the clock. “Give them a few minutes to get comfortable. They’ll be on the lookout for Troika ships entering the system, not to mention that guardian the Precursors left behind. Let them settle down a bit first.”

“I understand.” Raven seated herself on the couch beside me, folding her legs into the lotus position. “I’ll need a moment to prepare.” She closed her eyes, as if she were meditating.

Truth was, I wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing, but if I had to guess, I’m almost certain she was communing with the other side. Not with the dead, if that’s what you thought I meant… no, she was mentally seeking the links she’d left behind during her sojourn to the ship’s bridge. The Brotherhood had done everything in their power to prevent us from interfacing with their systems, and in my case they’d succeeded completely.

Not with her, apparently. And no, I don’t know how she does it either.

Still nothing from the Chell. That could be good, or bad news, but long experience has taught me to expect the worst. Not that there was anything I could do about it, what happened next was out of my hands.

Raven announced, “I’m ready,” as she opened her eyes a few minutes later.

I reached out and touched her hand. “Good luck,” I said softly. She nodded, the only indications she’d heard me, as she reached out through the aether and went to work.

I wish I could describe to you a battle fought with massive bursts of energy and brilliant displays of light, but from where I sat, all I saw was a dark-haired woman staring blankly at nothing. I know what she was attempting to do so, so I’ll try to describe it as best I can. Any errors or omissions are my fault, not hers.

I know she’d left behind a veritable army of tiny bots, dormant and awaiting her orders. She’d scattered them throughout the ship at key locations, and once she sent the command they sprang to life, eager to obey.

We needed the ship to escape. That was priority number one. Priority number two was ridding ourselves of the Brotherhood, and there we had a little flexibility. There were many ways Raven could have arranged their deaths, and I won’t lie that it tempted me. But death is rather final, and part of me hoped we could still strike a deal. If we could accomplish our goals without killing, so much the better. Which meant we had to find a way of getting them off the ship.

During her foray into enemy territory, Raven had discovered the Chell vessel carried a shuttle, spacious enough to evacuate the entire crew. We could certainly force them to evacuate, but things would be better all around if they did so voluntarily. The question is, how do you get an entire crew to leave their ship? That craft is the only thing keeping them alive, so it would take something pretty compelling.

The answer is simple. Scare the holy living crap out of them.

We could have mucked with the engines, or fiddled with the environmental controls, but in those situations the Brotherhood was far more likely to attempt repairs instead of just abandoning ship. No, if we wanted them gone, then we needed something big.

Like say, the mythical, all-powerful guardian of the Precursor planet.

The plan was simple. Once the ship got deep enough in the system, their engines would fall silent. The crew would immediately run diagnostics, only to discover there was nothing obviously wrong. Raven had altered the software to fool the ship’s engineers, rerouting any inspections safely around where she was working to avoid detection.

The centerpiece of her grand scheme, however, was the Guardian. It had to be imposing, awe-inducing, and downright terrifying, but more importantly it also had to be believable. We considered and rejected dozens of ideas for its appearance before deciding on something simple: a star, blue-white, blazing brighter than anything in the system. If that didn’t get their attention, then nothing would. It would then issue an ultimatum; leave now or suffer the consequences. With the engines inoperable, hopefully the Brotherhood would make the smart choice and escape in the shuttle.

If not, then something more final could still be arranged.

Once they were safely off the ship, we’d let it drift for a while, helping to sell the illusion. Meanwhile, Raven would be busy rigging a data connection for me so I could join her on the bridge. And when that was done?

Time to finally gaze upon New Terra ourselves.

I tried to not get my hopes up, I truly did, but the thought of finally finding the Promised Land, a new home for our people after so many years of wandering, it was hard not to. I could barely sit still while I waited anxiously for word from Raven, for news the plan had been successful. I was wound up so tight that I almost screamed when her eyes came back into focus, just before she turned and smiled.

“It worked,” she grinned. “They’re off the ship, and don’t suspect a thing.”

“Thank Terra,” I sighed in relief. “Any problems?”

“I had to improvise a little with the imagery,” she admitted. “They weren’t buying it at first.”

“If they’re gone, and we have the ship, that’s all that matters,” I told her. “How long before you can rig a link?”

“Almost finished,” she answered. “Just making the last connections now.” A few moments later, a portal appeared out of thin air, shimmering with subtle energy, as a door slid silently open. She offered me her hand and rose to her feet. “Shall we?” she asked.

I gave it a squeeze and joined her, grinning like a fool as we stepped across the threshold, appearing within the Chell ship a heartbeat later as the portal closed behind us. That our plans had actually worked, despite the odds against us, was nothing short of miraculous. Overcome with emotion, I pulled Raven close and kissed her, reveling in the moment. I felt her startle at first, but soon she was returning my affections with equal passion, until we finally broke apart. As we gazed at one another, I was suddenly self-conscious.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, “don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t apologize,” she smiled, “I enjoyed it too.”

Well, that certainly bore exploring sometime soon, but in the meantime we had bigger concerns. Taking a seat at Navigation, I studied a plot of the system. “Hmm… looks like we’re at the outer edge of the ecliptic plane,” I mused, checking out the nearby planets. “Nothing but gas giants in this sector,” I told her, “which makes sense. Anything capable of supporting life would be closer in.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” she laughed.

I grinned along with her as we fired up the engines and headed deeper within the system, searching for the Garden of Eden. Within an hour, we discovered the first candidate, but after one quick glance we moved on. Not only were there no signs of advanced technology, it was nothing more than a frozen ball of ice.

The next target was slightly more promising, but as we drew closer, we realized it too was a dud. Barren and lifeless, an airless rock writ large, it wasn’t what we were searching for.

Our hopes were raised with the next planet, only to be just as quickly dashed. While possessing an extensive atmosphere, it was a toxic, poisonous brew, unable to support life. No signs of technology here either.

By the time we limped to the last world, our earlier excitement had vanished. This one flew far too close to its sun, the surface baked and blasted by heat and radiation. Perhaps an outpost might survive here, buried deep on the far side, but nothing else. I slumped in my chair; the disappointment drowning my soul.

“I don’t understand,” Raven said. “Where is it?”

“Not here,” I answered, shaking my head in defeat.

“Are you sure this is the system that creature showed you?”

“I’m sure,” I replied.

“Then what are you saying?” she demanded. “That it lied?”

“Of course it lied,” I sighed, “… it was a Yīqún.”