The Complete “Tibbo’s Pages”

When Kat first published Tibbo’s story, she was already dying of a rare genetic disease. By the time I met her, she was nearly gone. She entrusted me to deal with the vault in the Core once she died. She could never bring herself to enter it. I destroyed everything except for two pages I found hidden inside, the final pieces of Tibbo’s story. I wish Kat could have seen them. Instead, I’ve put them all together here, trusting that the story is now finally complete, and there is peace in this corner of the galaxy.

–Jawh Perrin, Editor

1. Tibbo

Life used to start with orders. I would wake to receive a command from my employers, a job that nobody else could do. I would do it, and they would reward me with their praise, superman, miracle of evolution, marvel. Then I would sleep again and wait for my next task.

One day I received this command: “Go to this planet. Find the canyon and the Core. Enter the vault and relay all information through your computer.” Coordinates entered the computer I held. I used them to ru’so to the planet.

I appeared at the edge of the canyon. It stretched out from one end of my vision to the other. The bottom was hidden by a mist rising up from below. I took a moment to adjust to the gravity and the air of the world, then started climbing down. The rock was easy to find handholds in, but it gathered moisture as I went. I lost track of time. I tried to climb faster. I slipped and fell a hundred feet and splashed into a pool of liquid.

I was unhurt, but I trembled. I had never slipped before. What had happened? I stood up and examined my fingers. They were intact and working. My feet too. There had been moisture up there, but not enough to make me slip. I had climbed under waterfalls with ease.

I clicked on the light on my computer and examined the pool. It told me the liquid was carbon dioxide, so cold down here that it condensed. But not enough to make me slip.

I couldn’t let it distract me. I had a job to do.

As I turned, I saw a blue light flash in the distance. I ran toward it, careful of my footing. There was a cave opening in the canyon wall nearby. A rusty post stood next to it.

The light shone from the mouth of the cave. I shielded my eyes and looked for its source.

A person stood there, glowing. It was a projection, someone looking through ru’so at the planet. Maybe one of my employers. I approached and raised my hand in greeting.

The person yelped like a frightened animal. “Who–what are you?” The voice was feminine.

What was I? I was a human, the same as she was. But I was so far advanced that she must not have recognized me. It happened sometimes.

She took a step closer and said, “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

A muscle in my lower face twitched. Natural selection had taken my ability to speak, but replaced it with the ability to breathe every kind of air imaginable. I never minded the trade. I spelled out my name with my hand.

The person peered at me. “Wait, I don’t think I understand.”

I lifted my computer and showed her my name etched on the back. TIBBO.

She hissed. “It can’t be.”

She pulled away and turned her back to me. I started toward her, but she disappeared. The transmission ended.

It was a strange encounter, but probably not significant. I wouldn’t worry about it. I had a job to do.

I stepped into the cave. It was empty, except for an ancient computer half-buried in the dust. Its two halves were hinged together. One had a screen, and the other a series of buttons. One was for ru’so.

The blue light shone from behind me. I turned to see the strange person again.

“Who are you?” I signed with my hands. “Why have you come?”

She raised her hands and signed in reply. “My name is Kat.” I was surprised. My employers never signed to me. She continued, “I am–from another time.”

I squinted in confusion.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” she said quickly, using her voice. “It works with ru’so.”

“How?”

She resumed signing. “You know how ru’so acts as an instant bridge between places. It does the same thing with times. You can project yourself through space to a different place, and I can project myself through time, all with ru’so. You just need the right coordinates.”

I didn’t know much about ru’so. It worked, and I was the only one who could use it to travel. It made me cautious. She could have been lying, and I wouldn’t know.

“Why did you come?” I asked.

She hesitated. “I know about your mission.”

“How?”

“I read about it. When all this is over, you’ll write about it. Then years from now, my father will find what you wrote and read it to me.”

I scowled.

“I can prove it. The coordinates from that computer will take you into a tunnel. I think it used to be part of this cave, but someone sealed it off. The tunnel will take you to a small town underground. Then you’ll find something that will–” she struggled for a sign– “hurt you.”

My chest sputtered with laughter. What could hurt me? I could fall long distances and survive violent storms and breathe anywhere but a vacuum. I had survived wild animals and alien diseases.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

I shook my head. Her face drooped.

I attached my computer to the old one and extracted the coordinates. I projected myself through to look around. There was a tunnel, like Kat said. I prepared to ru’so through.

“Tibbo,” Kat said.

I looked at her.

“Be careful.”

No one ever told me that before. They never needed to. They knew I could handle anything. I would have to show her.

I ru’soed.

The air inside the tunnel was thick and warm. I saw a faint red light in the distance and walked toward it. My computer hummed. It detected toxins in the air, something dangerous to an ordinary human. I slowed my breath so my lungs could filter it out more easily.

This must be what Kat meant. I would show her if she appeared again.

The tunnel opened up into a broad, round cavern. A town was in the center of it. Small orbs in the cavern walls provided the light. The dust and rock gave it the red color.

A sign outside the town said, “Welcome to the Core.” This was the place I was supposed to find. There was a vault around here. I searched all the buildings but they were empty.

I was about to leave when I saw a blue light in the window of a nearby house. Kat. She’d known about the town. Maybe she knew where the vault was.

She turned to face me when I entered the room. I showed her my computer and its warning.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I know you can breathe toxic air. You’re not like other people. You’re extraordinary and unique.”

She used the same words as other people, but there was no praise in them. They were flat and empty. She didn’t believe it.

Kat signed, “This town was built by the first inhabitants of the planet. They settled here and started a series of… tests.”

“Do you know where I need to go?” I asked.

“I need to tell you this first.”

“Why?”

“It’s about your mission. You need to know what you’re looking for.”

“I know what I’m looking for.” She treated me like a child. I wasn’t. I was the most mature any human had ever been.

I turned to leave. Kat called after me, “Wait, please!”

“What?”

“I know I can’t stop you,” she said. “From where I am, it’s already happened.”

Then why try?

“But I can’t do nothing. At least let me warn you.”

“I don’t need your warning. I can handle it.”

I left, hoping that was the end of her. She had already taken too much time when I should have been working.

I searched all the buildings again. They were completely empty, no hidden doors or switches. I left the town in the opposite direction I’d come in. There were no openings in the cave wall, but maybe further up.

I found a recess in the wall, a hundred feet or so from the ground. I shined my light inside and saw a shiny metal door in the back. I climbed inside and approached.

Kat appeared in front of me. I avoided her and stepped to the door. My foot struck an object on the ground.

Kat said, “You’re going in there, aren’t you?”

The object was another computer with a cracked screen. I attached my computer and began to extract the coordinates.

“Tibbo?”

Once I had all the coordinates, I projected myself through and looked. It was completely dark inside. I couldn’t see anything.

I came back out and looked at Kat. “What will I find in there?”

Her face contorted. “I don’t know how to tell you.”

She had tried all this time to warn me, and now she couldn’t say why?

“You won’t believe me,” she said. “The people here did something terrible to you. That’s what their tests were.”

“I’ve been through tests before,” I said. At the end of every job. Then came the praise.

“No, not like that. This was a massive secret. Why do you think they poisoned the air?”

“I can breathe the air.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand! I just fell a hundred feet and walked away. I’ve been breathing toxic air for hours. I moved through ru’so and lived. I’m not like you. I’m better!”

“No,” she said softly. “You’re exactly like me.”

I scowled. “Please leave me alone.”

“I’ll wait out here if you want.”

“No.”

She bowed her head, her image disappeared, and I was left alone. I sniffed and ru’soed into the vault.

Milt Sinew and Cold Station

Temperatures outside the isolated station were cold enough that even inside the heat-generating metal walls, people’s breath still puffed in clouds as they moved through the halls, bumping each other continually because every corridor was only wide enough for one and a half average people, and the gravity’s pull on everyone, coupled with the indulgent diet designed to stave off depression, made everyone a little rounder than average.

Milt Sinew observed this again as he stood in the surface elevator waiting for the doors to close. He fished in his deep pockets and mentally grabbed hold of one of those last thoughts. A diet designed to stave off depression. It hadn’t worked too well. Everyone he knew was in a shade of the blues. Even he, the laughing, joker of the crew was only standing in this elevator because the trip up to the surface was long enough for him to let out a sigh.

The doors finally closed. There was a pause before the elevator began to progress upward. Milt drew in a breath, and sighed it out. His fingers finally found the box in his pocket, and he pinched inside it to draw one long white cigarette into view. He perched it between his lips and fumbled for the lighter in his other pocket. The smoke bobbed in and out of his vision as he raised the little flame to its end. The next moment he was breathing warmth and heat, the only warmth and heat that could be found around here.

The elevator dinged to a halt, faster than anticipated. Milt sucked smoke into the back of his throat as the doors opened and the ever-present janitor stared into the chamber.

“You coming out?” he asked through fat jowls that looked like extra marshmallows were stuffed in them.

Milt smiled thinly and shook his head once, holding his breath and mentally urging the doors to hurry up and close. Once they slid back shut over the blank face of the janitor, he exhaled, sending simultaneous bursts of smoke and breath vapor billowing into the chamber. Milt coughed. He was used to taking risks like that, and having them turn out fine. Usually the janitor wasn’t there.

The janitor. Milt pinched out his cigarette and shoved it back in his pocket. The burned patches on his thumb and forefinger were numb enough by now that he could do it without pain.

That janitor was an enigma. He’d been here as far as Milt could remember, yet no one knew his name. They only knew the blue coveralls and stubbly jowls, and the mop he was sometimes seen toting.

Milt absently fished a palm-sized can of air freshener from his pocket and sprayed it for a good fifteen seconds, till his nostrils reeled. Not enough to cover the smoke smell–nothing ever was–but this time it was brownie-scented, so before anyone noticed the smoke smell they’d be thinking about something else.

Whenever anyone saw the janitor, he was at the elevator door. Never down the hall, or near the sealed airlock to the surface, or even a little further down the hall. You never saw his back either. The man could have a hole in his pants large enough to display any number of ludicrous underwear choices, and no one would be the wiser.

At that thought, Milt smirked and the elevator doors opened back on the original level. He stepped out into the halls and was confronted with everyone’s attention. He thought he could sense their drooped heads pick up a little bit. Almost as if they expected a speech.

“Hello,” he said. They smiled.

They expected something funny. They always did. He scrambled around in his head for something.

“Forgot my keys,” he said. They chuckled and turned back to their work. Milt melted in along with them, looking for something else to do. As the joker around here, he was something like a captain. The only one who could keep his spirits high enough to make a decision.

He felt around in his pocket for the box of cigarettes, and counted them up by the feel. Three. There wouldn’t be another supply shipment for another four months. Let’s hope there aren’t more than three big decisions to make before then.