Bastion Science Fiction Magazine - Issue 7, October 2014 by Manfred Gabriel Alvaro Zinos-Amaro Jeff Stehman Matthew Lyons Salena Casha William R.D. Wood Meryl Stenhouse Eric Del Carlo R. Leigh Hennig Page B

magnitude of the vastness when compared to him...
    Stephen couldn't help but smile. Utterly alone, and yet light from all the stars arrayed before him intersected at this point in space.
    He oriented himself on the Dark Horse Nebula. Though it was hidden by brighter stars, he found the direction of the red dwarf that had been his destination, still 7.7 light years away in this universe.
     
    #
     
    Mark returned before Stephen's oxygen gauge showed red. Stephen watched as the ship maneuvered into his path. He took his time reaching the airlock, searching for options he had missed, but eventually he pulled himself inside and plugged in the oxygen tube.
    "I thought you'd never show up," Mark said. He had been silent until then. "Don't you like my company?"
    "Several hours ago you clearly wanted me dead. Perhaps now you're uncertain, but no, I'm not likely to call you friend."
    "That's uncharitable. I acted in the interest of self-preservation. Surely even you can understand that."
    "I've never been a threat to you, nor given you cause to believe I was a danger."
    "If only it were so easy. In truth, I would not have returned this time, but I realized the threat might go beyond you. I have to ask you a question, and it's important that you be absolutely honest with me."
    Stephen did not respond immediately. I would not have returned this time . "Ask."
    "I have heard rumors about the Bureau experimenting. You know, on people. Tell me, did they ever perform surgery on your brain?"
    "Why would they have done that?"
    "Your cold, calculating ways. They seem just the thing the Bureau would latch onto as an improvement. I can see them thinking that a couple of snips in someone's medial prefrontal cortex might give them better long-run crews. They're wrong, of course, but that's no surprise."
    Stephen stared at Mark's face through the window. He recognized nothing but anticipation of a question's answer.
    "Well?"
    "I'm trying to understand why you would find the answer worth coming back for."
    "I need to know how far it goes. If the problem is just you, that's an easy if regrettable fix."
    That's twice.
    "But," Mark continued, "if there's a conspiracy, if they've made more like you, I shall have to deal with it when I return. So?"
    "Let me in and you can examine my head for scars."
    Mark's face reddened. "Do you think I'm stupid?"
    "I don't know what to think."
    "It'd be oh-so-convenient for you and the Bureau if I disappeared out here, wouldn't it? But you were too slow. I figured out what you were up to, and I acted first. Deal with it."
    "Mark, I have no way of dealing with anything. You have me trapped. I've had plenty of time to think through the possibilities, and there is no way for me to get back into the ship unless you decide to open the door."
    "Stop trying to manipulate me!"
    Stephen was at a loss. "Do you think I'm capable of manipulating you?"
    Mark glared at him for a moment. "You're right, I don't." He pushed off the door. "Or I didn't." He pushed off the bulkhead. "This could be a revelation." Off the door. "This could be..." Off the bulkhead. He stopped in front of the door and looked at Stephen.
    "I must consider this." He turned off his earpiece and pushed himself out of sight.
     
    #
     
    Stephen worked at the controls, but without being able to open the panel, he could not open the door. His oxygen gauge read full by the time Mark returned.
    "I have decided," he said.
    Stephen waited.
    "I have decided that you may be more dangerous than I thought."
    Shaking his head, Stephen said, "What does it matter? You have already decided to kill me."
    "Oh, it matters. You may not be willing to reveal the conspiracy, but you've given away more than you know, my friend. I think I understand you well enough now."
    "Well enough for what?"
    "To recognize others when I see them. I will have to act swiftly when I do. Heroes are not made, but born in the moment. I will do what I must for the betterment of all. There will be no triumph