Threshold Shift (20 page)

“Good
morning, Asher,” Jon said. He was sitting on a bench beside the
compartment door, a steaming mug of coffee warming his hands.

“Where
is everyone?” Asher asked.

“Sleeping
in the forward compartment,” Jon explained. “It’s
my turn to keep an eye on you.”

Asher
motioned to the blankets. “I have you to thank for these?”

“You
did save my life,” Jon said. “It’s the least I
could do.”

Asher
sat up. “Thank-you, Jon.”

“There’s
some water by your feet,” Jon said. “Be careful not to
knock it over.”

Asher
looked down, and found a small bottle of clear liquid standing next
to the pallet. He picked it up and raised it to his lips, draining it
without even pausing for breath. “Thank-you,” he said
afterwards, feeling a little better.

Jon
nodded, watching him, no - studying him. Asher gathered the blankets
around him and waited.

“Tell
me,” Jon began, “how many people have died so far in this
uprising of yours?”

Asher
rubbed at a crick in his neck. “I don’t know. Quite a few
I suspect.”

Jon
stared at him intently. “I think you know the exact number.”

Asher
shook his head. “I could find out how many, but I choose not
to. Is it important?”

“Is
it important?” Jon repeated. “Yes, it is.”

“Jon,
I know you care, you were raised among them. But you have to realise,
the humans on Threshold are not important to anyone. The universe
barely notices their existence.”

No
wonder my father didn’t want to go back,” Jon replied.
“You’re so far gone, you don’t even realise it.”

“You
cannot judge me, Jon. You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh,
I know, Asher. My father showed me everything.”

“Ah,
Jacob,” Asher sighed. “Foolish Jacob. Even the memory of
him will be gone soon.”

“I
won’t forget him,” Jon said.

Asher
smiled wanly. “What do you want, Jon?”

“I
want you to help me stop this uprising.”

Asher
laughed. “I have no interest in stopping it. I made it happen.
This planet is necessary for Wun. The humans on it are not.”

Jon
frowned. “You really don’t care do you?”

“Why
would I?” Asher asked. “I left humanity behind a long
time ago. Besides, the Threshians are in the right. They deserve the
chance to run their own planet. Humankind is only using them.”

“You’re
using them,” Jon said.

“With
their agreement,” Asher replied. “Wun seeks an alliance
with them. He does not wish to rule them. He respects them. Can you
say the same?”

Jon
took another sip of coffee. Through their link Asher tasted both its
acridity and its heat. He waited.

“You
know I can’t,” Jon said finally. “But I was born
here. Most of the humans on this planet were born here. None of us
chose this. Those responsible for taking over Threshold are long
gone. We shouldn’t have to suffer for their crimes.”

Asher
struggled to his feet. Holding onto the bars of the cage helped keep
him upright. “I cannot stop the uprising, Jon. I will not.”

“What
about just letting us go?” Jon asked. “We have a
spaceport, we can get ships. We can just leave.”

“It
is too late for that,” Asher said. “Besides, more humans
would come. The cycle would simply begin again.”

“But
the people here, now, would be saved. The Threshians will have to
defend the planet regardless of how many people live or die today.
The Larson ore is too valuable to be just left in their hands. But
that isn’t my problem and it isn’t yours either.”

Asher
felt dizzy. “Perhaps.” He took a step back and laid
himself down on the bed. The world righted itself.

“You’re
shaking,” Jon said. “What’s happening to you?”

Asher
grinned foolishly. “I didn’t really have the energy to
bring you back, but I refused to let you go. This body is drained, it
won’t last much longer.”

“I’m
sorry,” Jon said.

“What
did you tell Roe, about me, about us?”

Jon
took a step towards the cage. “I tried to explain. But I don’t
think she understood. She blames you for the death of her father.”

“And
you?”

“I
…” Jon gripped the bars. “I want to blame you but
I can’t. You saved me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“You
are important to me, Jon,” Asher said.

“Why?”
Jon asked. “When so many aren’t.”

“You
are my family,” Asher said simply.

“Then
help me save the humans of Threshold.”

“Why,
Jon?”

“Because
I’m asking you to.”

“Oh,
Jon,” Asher replied. “You make life so difficult.”
He turned his face to the wall. “I am tired. Please let me
rest.”

“Asher?”

“I
need to think.”

Jon
said nothing, and Asher heard him return to his seat. Closing his
eyes, Asher sought out the mind of his brother.

-
Jeremiah?

I
am here Asher, I listened.

-
Will you help him?

You
have been alone too long, my brother, you have become contaminated.

-
Then you won’t help him

I
don’t share Jon’s concern for human life, but I am
concerned for you.

-
Jeremiah, I am dying

If
you join with me, you will live.

-
But is that living? I will no longer be myself.

Asher,
please.

-
I am beginning to understand Jacob’s point of view, I don’t
want to lose everything I have become.

That
is enough Asher. I will not allow your end. Losing Jacob was bad
enough. I am on my way to collect you, let your companions know I
mean them no harm.

-
Very well, Jeremiah, I will tell them.

I
am coming.

*

Jon
sat on the bench in the rear compartment watching over Asher as he
slept. Roe had never seen him so pained and conflicted before.
Awkwardly she climbed the three steps into the compartment, wincing
as he put a little too much weight on her bad leg. Jon looked up as
she entered. “Hello Roe,” he said. “You still mad
with me?”

She
closed the door behind her and struggled across to the bench. He
offered her his hand, but she refused it, settling into the space
beside him under her own power.

“I
don’t pretend to understand what he is,” she began, “but
I know he saved your life. He even saved Andy’s life. But I
also know that if he had just stayed away my father would still be
alive. He made this happen.”

“I
suppose that’s true,” Jon agreed. “But I think I
was getting through to him. I think last night changed him. He’s
not thinking with the big collective brain anymore, he’s
mortal.”

“He’s
important to you,” Roe said, taking his hand.

“Yes,
he is,” Jon said. “I feel, connected to him somehow. I
can’t explain it, but I think when he saved me, he gave a piece
of himself. He didn’t need to, he could have let me die, but he
didn’t. I mattered to him. ”

“And
he looks like your father,” Roe said.

Jon
closed his eyes and bowed his head.

“Jon?”

“You’re
right,” he said. “Of course you’re right. In many
ways he is just like my father. Maybe more than Jake is." Jon
closed his eyes. "I don’t know Roe. But I'm sure he can
help us. He can turn this whole thing around. I think he wants to.”

Roe
tightened her grip on his hand. “He’s dying Jon, he can’t
help us.”

“We’ll
see,” Jon said. “We’ll see.”

The
door to the compartment clicked open. It was Jake.

“Jeremiah
is here,” the Marshal said and stepped aside.

A man
in the crimson uniform of the pilot guild climbed into the
compartment. Roe saw at once that his face was as blank as Asher’s
had once been. The black hair was there, but the nose was small, the
eyes sunken, and the mouth, the mouth was little more than a slit
between the cheekbones. She wondered how she could ever have believed
that Asher was human.

The
man glanced at her and Jon, but his gaze did not linger, he turned
his back on them and opened the door to the cage. Stepping through,
he sank to his knees beside Asher. Roe saw him place his palms gently
onto Asher’s face, his fingers carefully parting the white
streak from the black hair. Eventually he looked up. “I must
take him to the spaceport, I need my others.”

“I’ll
help you,” Jon said.

“There
is no need,” Jeremiah replied.

“I
want to be there for him,” Jon insisted. "He's my family."

Jeremiah
stared at Jon for a moment, his face, by default, both expressionless
and unreadable. “Very well.”

The
man in crimson turned towards the door and climbed down from the
compartment. Jon walked over to lift Asher, but found it was not
necessary. Asher floated carefully up from the pallet and then out
through the cage and compartment door. Jon and Roe followed.

Outside
in the red morning light, Jake and Andy stood watching from beside
the transporter, Jake’s fingers wavering just above his gun’s
handgrip. Andy held his rifle in both hands, pointing it at the
ground. Roe caught her brother’s eye, and he nodded mutely to
her, he was ready to fire if necessary.

Jeremiah
halted and turned to Jon, Asher floating unerringly by his side. “My
brother,” he said. “You must come alone.”

Roe
instinctively took hold of Jon’s hand.

“I
have to,” Jon said, reaching down to gently unclasp her
fingers. “This is my chance to get them on our side."

She
looked to Jake for support, but he simply frowned and held his
position.

“Come,
my brother,” Jeremiah said.

Jon
smiled and kissed Roe goodbye. “Really, I’ll be OK.”

She
leaned awkwardly into her rifle as he left her behind.

*

Jon
kept pace with Jeremiah as Asher floated between them, separating
them. The man in crimson walked in silence, his eyes never wavering
from the spaceport tower ahead. Asher had explained Jeremiah as five
in one. Jon found himself wondering what that was like, to be looking
out of five sets of eyes at once, hearing five sets of noise. With
all that input, how could one consciousness cope? He studied
Jeremiah’s profile, the chin lacking even the cleft that marked
his father’s. He found himself thinking of the man as a puppet,
set in motion by remote control. But that wasn’t right either,
five in one meant five brains working together. The man in crimson
was not a puppet; he was a significant part of the whole.

“Jeremiah?”
Jon asked.

“Yes,
my brother.”

“Are
you going to heal Asher, the way he healed me?”

“That
is not possible, my brother.”

Jon
was beginning to feel agitated. “My name is Jon.”

“Jon,”
Jeremiah said with distaste.

“Why
isn’t it possible? He brought me back when I was a lot worse.
He isn’t even dead yet.”

“He
has lost too much,” Jeremiah replied. “Jon.”

“Are
you going to absorb him?”

“Of
course,” Jeremiah said. “Does that trouble you?”

“Yes,
it does.”

“I
do not understand you,” Jeremiah said. “But perhaps Asher
does.”

They
had arrived at the great double doors to the spaceport tower. Two men
in blue stood either side of the entrance, both armed with a type of
gun he had never seen before and both as expressionless as the man in
crimson.

“Why
do you need guards, Jeremiah?" Jon asked. "I thought the
Threshians were on your side.”

“I
do not fear the Threshians,” the guard on the left said. “I
am simply cautious. More humans could make their way here in order to
escape.”

“I
will prevent that,” the guard on the right added.

Jon
was startled. Knowing that each Jeremiah was part of the whole and
seeing it in action were two different things entirely. He had not
been ready. The two Jeremiahs stared at him without further comment.
For a moment he stared back, trying to trace an expression, until he
realised both Asher and the man in crimson were gone. Recovering
himself, he hurried after them.

The
spaceport waiting area was filled with long rows of moulded chairs,
mounted view screens and refreshment areas. Jon followed Jeremiah and
Asher down a long corridor into a waiting elevator. On his arrival it
began to ascend.

“Two
are waiting in the ship,” Jeremiah said.

“What
does absorption entail?” Jon asked.

Jeremiah
met his eyes. “You will see.”

They
left the elevator, entering into a wide flight deck containing five
control stations split across two levels. Two Jeremiahs in green were
standing by as Asher was lowered onto the nearest launch sofa. With
Asher settled, all three Jeremiahs knelt around him. They were ready
to begin,

“Can
I speak to him?” Jon asked. “Before…?”

One
of the green Jeremiahs stood up to let Jon take his place. Jon knelt
down, and was suddenly aware of the sheer heat emanating from the
sofa. Asher was so pale, his black hair slick with perspiration and
his brown shirt covered in dark patches of sweat. Jon reached down
and gently squeezed his shoulder. “Asher?”

Asher’s
eyes flickered open. “Hello, Jon.”

“Jeremiah
is going to help you now.”

“Perhaps
it is for the best,” Asher replied weakly.

“Remember
what we spoke about,” Jon said. “Please try to make him
understand.”

“He
may surprise you,” Asher smiled. “I have to go now.”

Jon
watched Asher close his eyes with a sense of grim finality. Standing
aside he let the waiting Jeremiah retake his place.

“I
begin,” the Jeremiahs declared in unison as three sets of
fingertips brushed across Asher’s forehead. For a moment Asher
was silent, his expression relaxed, almost happy, and then abruptly
he grimaced, his body convulsing violently.