Nebula Awards Showcase 2012

She took a deep breath. “You’re right. It’s just that I was prepared to study Leviathan, not sixty Class 8 and up. No one’s ever seen more than three or four giant ones together.”

“Is Leviathan the biggest one here?”

After checking a readout, Juanita said, “Yes, but not by much.” She pointed at a swale off to the left. “That male is only about 2 percent smaller.”

“So it looks like she wasn’t lying about that.”

She nodded her agreement, then said, “Why did you say it’s a great opportunity for you?”

I swept my arm across the view. “These must be the most prestigious swales, the leaders. If I can talk to them, convince them to make a law against sexual assault, then the smaller swales will accept it. That has to be why Leviathan brought me and Neuter Kimball here.”

“You are wrong,” said Neuter Kimball. Juanita must have taken the mute off at some point.

“Why do you say that?”

“This is a deathwatch council,” said Neuter Kimball. “They are here to watch me die so they can tell all swales that my death was deserved.”

“What?” I said. “What have you done?”

“I’m sure Leviathan will—”

Leviathan’s voice cut Neuter Kimball’s off. “This little one has abandoned me in favor of a human god. Such error I could forgive. But on its behalf, the tiny human seeks to impose its moral code on us. The human’s mind is infinitesimal compared to ours. The human’s life is short; the history of its race is short. It is the least of us, and yet it seeks power over us.”

“I don’t seek power over—” I began.

“Silence!” Leviathan thundered. “The human must see the error of its ways. Kimball!”

“Yes, Leviathan?”

“Your life is forfeit. But I will grant reprieve if you will renounce the human religion and return to me.”

I had read of martyrdom in the scriptures and history of the Church all my life. But nowadays it was supposed to be a merely academic exercise, as you examined your faith to see if it was strong enough that you would die for the gospel of Christ. Actual killing over religious belief wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.

And I found my own faith lacking as I hoped that Neuter Kimball’s faith was weak, that it would deny the faith and live rather than be killed.

“I am to be Abinidi after all, President Malan,” said Neuter Kimball. “I choose to live as a Mormon, and I will die as one if it be God’s will.”

“It is my will,” said Leviathan, “and I am the only god who concerns you.”

Tendrils of white plasma reached out toward Neuter Kimball.

“I am the greatest of all,” said Leviathan. “Bear witness to my judgment.”

I hit the mute button and said, “I’ve got to stop this. This is my fault.”

Juanita’s eyes glistened. “I warned you about interfering. But it’s too late to do anything now.”

“No,” I said. “If you’re willing to drive this thing into Leviathan’s tendrils, it may give Neuter Kimball a chance to escape.”

She stared at me. “The shuttle’s meant to survive a glancing blow. A direct hit like that—we could die.”

The tendrils closed around Neuter Kimball.

“I know, and that’s why I’m asking you. I can’t force you to risk your life to save someone else’s.” I hoped I was right about how much she cared about swales—and Neuter Kimball in particular.

After looking out at Neuter Kimball, then back at me, she said, “Computer, manual navigation mode.” She grabbed the controls and began steering us toward the white bands connecting Leviathan to Neuter Kimball.

I turned off the mute. “Leviathan, you claim to be the greatest. In size, you probably are.”

White filled the view ahead.

“But not in love,” I said, speaking quickly as I didn’t know how much time I had left. “Jesus said, ‘Greater love hath no man than this: that he lay down his life for his friends.’ He was willing to die for the least of us, while you are willing to kill the leas—”

A flash of bright light and searing heat cut me off. I felt a sudden jolt.

Then blackness.

And nausea. After a few moments, I realized nausea probably meant I was still alive. “Juanita?”

“I’m here,” she said.

The darkness was complete. And I was weightless. Maybe I was dead—although this wasn’t how I’d pictured the afterlife.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you what didn’t happen: The energy shield didn’t fail. The ablative shell didn’t fail. We didn’t die.”

“So what did happen?”

Juanita let out a long, slow breath. “Best guess: Electromagnetic pulse wiped out all our electronics. The engine’s dead, artificial gravity’s gone, life support’s gone, comm system’s gone, everything’s gone.”

“Any chance—”

“No,” she said.

“You didn’t even let me finish—”

“No chance of anything. It’s not fixable, and even if it was, I haven’t a clue how to fix any of those things even if it weren’t totally dark in here. Do you?”

“No.”

“And no help is coming from Sol Central because not only do they not know we’re in trouble, but also we’re in another star that could be halfway across the galaxy. When the air in here runs out, we die. It’s that simple.”

“Oh.” I realized she was right. “Do you think maybe we succeeded in freeing Neuter Kimball?”

“Maybe. But it didn’t exactly look like Kimball was trying all that hard to escape.”

“Well,” I said, “maybe it was thinking about how Abinidi’s martyrdom led one of the evil king’s priests to repent and become a great prophet. Perhaps Neuter Kimball believed something similar would happen to one of the great swales who—”

“Whatever Neuter Kimball believed,” she said, her voice acidic, “it was because you and your church filled its mind with fairy tales of martyrs.”

I bit back an angry reply. Part of me felt she was right. At the end, Neuter Kimball had seemed to embrace the role of martyr. Would it have done so if not for the stories about martyrs in the scriptures?

And I had been willing enough to risk my life, but now that I was going to die, I found myself afraid.

Juanita didn’t seem to need a reply from me. “And what’s the point of martyrs anyway? A truly powerful god could save his followers rather than let them die. Where’s God now that you really need him? What good is any of this?”

“Look, I’m sorry,” I said. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be safe at home, and Neuter Kimball would be alive. I’ve made a mess of things.”

“Yes.”

Hours passed—floating in darkness, it was hard to tell how many. I spent it in introspection and prayer, detailing all my faults that had led me here. Biggest of all was pride: the idea that I, Harry Malan, would—through sheer force of will and a good speech—change a culture that had existed for billions of years. I thought back to what I had been told while serving as a nineteen-year-old missionary on Mars: You don’t convert people; the Spirit of the Lord does that, and even then only if they are willing to be converted.

Juanita spoke. “You were just trying to do what you thought was right. And you were trying to protect the rights of smaller swales. So I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” I said.

The shuttle jolted.

“What was that?” I asked. My body sank down into my seat.

“It sounded—”

An ear-splitting squeal from the right side of the shuttle drowned out the rest of her reply. I twisted my head around and saw sparks flying from the wall.

Then a chunk of the hull fell away and light streamed in, temporarily blinding me.

“They’re still alive,” said a man. “Tell Kimball they’re still alive.”