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Sebastian had seen his captain die more times than he cared to count throughout the simulation. Henry Singleton had urged him not to let his emotions get the better of him when he’d woken him up, warning him that it would take a toll to endure those hellish eight days over and over. Most of the time, Sebastian swallowed down the grief of watching Eyk Larsen succumb to his worst impulses and die in a desperate attempt to save his passengers and crew. It burned him, but it was survivable.
Yet, in all the times that had come before, Sebastian had never been the one to kill Eyk.
Another loop had passed since Sebastian’s greatest betrayal, and yet he couldn’t shake the image of Eyk crumpled on the floor, eyes open and unseeing. At least deactivation was painless. He hadn’t suffered. Even so, Sebastian couldn’t escape the guilt that curled deep in his stomach at the memory.
He’d thought that it would be worth it. After all, bringing Maura Franklin to her father was supposed to allow Henry to wake up, and in turn it would save all their souls. Maura’s grief-driven creation was their prison, and surely he would have woken them up once he’d been freed. That was his promise at least. If he were awake, he could undo all this damage and pain. Maura couldn’t be trusted to fix it, not when she was the one who built it in the first place, which is why they’d tried to prevent Daniel Solace from waking her.
They’d failed, in that moment, and Sebastian had killed his captain for nothing. It was viciously unfair, and Sebastian privately allowed himself to feel the sharp bitterness underneath his still mask. He’d been selected to help Henry for his discipline and his ability to follow orders. Besides, Henry said, he wasn’t burdened by any sort of devotion that could get in the way.
“I would have asked any of the others,” he’d said dismissively as Sebastian’s mind reeled with the sensation of remembering. “But you’re alone here. The rest of them are too consumed with their petty little relationships. You’re a loyal man, but a practical one as well. I trust you won’t let any foolish emotions get in the way of doing your duty.”
He’d tried to do his duty. He’d listened to every word said to him about Maura, about Daniel, and about the boy. While he’d tried to steer Eyk down a different path, he also knew when to let him go in each loop. But he had never harmed him personally and now…
But that was another loop. They were still trapped, and Sebastian still had his duty to fulfill. He could save Eyk, even if he failed him before. This loop could be different.
It had started the same as ever. Wilhelm received the distress call from the Prometheus, and despite the advice of his crew Eyk decided to pursue it. In the dining hall, Sebastian stood by as the passengers grew restless and argued with Eyk’s decision. He knew their names by now. He’d watched them die by now. Their fates would be sealed again by Eyk’s choice. Perhaps they remembered that somehow, and that inspired their arguments. They all were trying to save themselves.
As night fell and the Prometheus once more appeared on the horizon, Sebastian felt a familiar sense of dread. He wasn’t quite sure what awaited them this time. The last loop had found the Prometheus empty, with no sign of Daniel. Elliot was still with his grandfather, where he couldn’t be used by his father in an attempt to manipulate the simulation any longer. The ship might still be empty. That didn’t mean they weren’t all still damned.
“Captain, with all due respect, we should get back on course,” he advised as Eyk observed the quiet and dead ship. “As soon as we have radio contact, we can inform the company about the position.”
Eyk didn’t stop to listen, or to think. “We’ll lower a lifeboat.”
Sebastian felt a flicker of annoyance despite being familiar with this response. Eyk was always too damned stubborn. “But that’s insane. We should contact the company first.”
Franz voiced his agreement, which Sebastian was grateful for. For most of the loops, Franz proved to be a danger to Eyk’s captaincy and survival. Once he lost Franz’s trust, Eyk’s days as captain were numbered. Sebastian had seen it happen before.
When Eyk turned to look at him and the rest of the assembled crew, Sebastian waited for the usual order. He would be given command of the bridge, and Eyk would gather a rescue party to travel to the Prometheus. Sebastian would be left to pace the deck with an anxious Wilhelm and Eugen, waiting for Eyk’s return and for things to grow worse by the hour.
However, Eyk surprised him this time.
“You’re with me,” he said, directing his comment towards Sebastian. He glanced towards Franz. “You, you’ll have command of the ship in my absence.”
“Sir…” Sebastian knew better than to argue, but this change shocked him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” Eyk’s gaze was resolute. He hadn’t been drinking in the past couple of hours. Sebastian could tell that just by the strength of his conviction. “Is there a problem?”
Sebastian had no answer for that. If he went with Eyk, his chances of controlling the situation would increase. If need be, he could protect him better if he were physically present on the Prometheus, rather than observing from afar. Regardless, if Eyk ordered him to follow, he most certainly would. That much was real between them.
As they rowed across the space between the ships, Sebastian tried to distract himself from the dread that hung heavy over the boat. In all the loops, he’d never been on the Prometheus. He always remained on the Kerberos as Eyk ventured into the dark, aided by a stoker and a stowaway and a false priest. When she was here, Maura had journeyed out with them. She and Eyk always grew close, for reasons Sebastian never quite understood. He’d mentioned their strange relationship to her father at one point, and had received a vague answer about how their proximity in the loops created a connection that their bodies remembered subconsciously even as they forgot each other again and again.
He’d then asked if Sebastian was jealous, which ended the conversation there and then.
Eyk was seated next to him, rowing in contemplative silence. Jérôme and Olek sat in front of them, also silent as they focused on the task at hand. Ramiro sat in the back of the boat, hands clasped in what seemed like prayer but what Sebastian knew to actually be nerves. These three men accompanying them were not supposed to be here going by the roles they played; Olek should be at his post, Jérôme on his mission of revenge, and Ramiro waiting in his cabin. But the simulation prioritized the test subjects Maura had placed inside it as strange main characters in the loops, so they were forced to endure a similar fate as Eyk every eight days. All of them, as well as the people they loved, would die.
Sebastian almost pitied them, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry too much about whether or not they survived for very long. After watching them die so many times, he’d become numb to their suffering. He could hope they went quickly, and after that there was little he could do.
Sometimes he’d had to dispose of them himself, but that was another story.
When they reached the Prometheus, Eyk looked at Sebastian. The light of the lanterns cast shadows across his face, illuminating the scars and his exhaustion. “If we’re not back in an hour, get help.”
“No.” Sebastian surprised himself. “I’m going aboard as well.”
Eyk’s face darkened, but Sebastian continued. “These men, they’re not trained for this situation. One of them is a priest, for God’s sake. You need someone who is prepared for whatever we find aboard.”
It was the truth, though not in the way Eyk understood. Sebastian truly was the only one who was ready to face whatever the simulation would throw at them now. With Maura freed, there was no telling what she would program the simulation to do next. This entire ship could be some kind of trap, ready to spring at any given moment. Maura’s fondness for Eyk might have only extended so far, especially if she needed to ensure that her simulation never ended.
For a moment, it seemed as though Eyk would argue the point, or give him an order to stay. Instead, he nodded. For a moment, the corner of his lips curved into a smile, a private one just for the pair of them. He didn’t need to say anything else. Sebastian understood what he meant perfectly.
The silence of the Prometheus’ empty cabins and hallways was unsettling compared to the steady grim sounds of the Kerberos. There were no surprises, no traps. Sebastian half expected something to jump out at them, since the ship looked like something out of a nightmare. Their lanterns illuminated the shadows, however, and there were no monsters hiding within them. At one point, he saw Eyk kneel down to pick something off the dirty floor, but he pocketed it too fast for Sebastian to note what it was.
As they approached the first class dining room, something caught Sebastian’s eye as well. A small green beetle glittered on the floor, standing perfectly still as if waiting for them. Something uneasy shifted in his stomach, and for a moment he wanted to squish the damn thing or walk past it without alerting anyone to the bug’s existence. That would be the smartest decision, as it clearly did not belong aboard the ghostly ship.
Then the damn thing did begin to move, the motion drawing the attention of the rest of the group. Despite Ramiro’s muttered protests that no one else could understand, Eyk followed it forward into the dining room, Jérôme and Olek trailing right behind. Sebastian longed to curse, but instead he followed as well. In his pocket, he could sense the weight of the device he’d used to deactivate Eyk and so many before. If necessary, he could see if he could step to the back of the group and delete the bug, or whatever it was leading them towards.
The light from the lanterns made the already gloomy room look even more unwelcoming. Sebastian had always been struck by the strange art in the Kerberos’ dining hall. The art on the Prometheus was similar — twisted murals that never would have belonged on a ship of this magnitude in reality. Just another part of the simulation that signaled what a nightmare it truly was. Sebastian kept his eyes glued to the shadows around them, trying to see if anything else lurked inside them.
His focus, as it turned out, was misplaced in the wrong spot.
It was Ramiro who saw them first; he let out a curse in Portuguese, flinching backwards. The rest of the group turned in shock, Eyk’s gun in his hand. They peered into the newly illuminated area, taking in the sight of two people standing near the bar.
For a moment, Sebastian couldn’t understand.
Maura Franklin was not supposed to be here. She’d woken up already, fleeing the scene of the pain she’d caused and leaving the rest of them to suffer endlessly.
But here she stood, in the same clothes she’d worn in every loop, eyes fixed on Eyk with a cool determination. At her side stood Daniel Solace; his eyes flickered from person to person until his gaze settled on Sebastian. Too practiced to show any sign of shock, the man held Sebastian’s glare for a moment longer before he put his arm around his wife.
Eyk lowered his gun, and Sebastian knew they were doomed yet again.
Once they were safely back on the Kerberos, Sebastian attempted to slip away to send a message about this new development. Everyone else was so focused on the pair they’d rescued that his sour mood went unnoticed. He’d hoped that his absence would not be noticed either as he tried to step away.
He assumed that Eyk would be too fixated on Maura to care. Jealousy might not be becoming, but it was all Sebastian had currently.
And yet, as he’d attempted to make his exit, Eyk looked away from Maura to stare directly at him. “Where are you going?”
“Someone should tell Wilhelm to alert the company,” Sebastian lied. It was close enough to the truth, at least. “They’ll want to know about any survivors.”
Eyk scowled before looking at both Maura and Daniel. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
“Of course,” Maura said drily. She glanced at Sebastian briefly, and he would’ve been impressed by her calm demeanor if he wasn’t so angry that she’d come back. All she had brought to any of them was pain and a cycle of death. What purpose could be served by her return other than to continue that?
He forced himself to school his expression into careful neutrality as he followed Eyk from the dining room where the two survivors were currently being given tea and some food. Once they were outside the doors, he stood with his hands clasped behind him as Eyk gave him a stern look.
“I don’t want to alert the company just yet,” Eyk said, keeping his voice low. “Not until we understand what happened.”
Sebastian fought back his frustration. “Sir, they should know before we reach port.”
“I know,” Eyk replied. His eyes darted to the door and back. “But something about their story doesn’t make sense. How did they survive that long with no food? And they don’t seem to know what happened to anyone else. Or if they do, they’re not saying a word. Something isn’t right.”
“I see.” Sebastian nodded once. Something close to hope blossomed in his chest. If Eyk was suspicious of them, perhaps there was a way to salvage this. Once he turned on Maura and her husband, it would be easy for Sebastian to deliver them to Henry and fix this once and for all. They could all wake up. They could all go home.
Eyk ran a hand over his face. Judging by the set of his shoulders and the slight tremor of his hand, he was most likely craving a drink. “For now, I want you to take them to a cabin. 1011 is open, I believe. Tell them to stay there while we figure out what to do next.”
“Shouldn’t we just proceed as planned?”
“We’re closer to England than America. It might be better if we returned to Europe.”
“Sir, the passengers won’t be happy. They’re already angry enough that you veered off course.”
“That’s not their concern.” There was a flash of Eyk’s former confidence, the steel that made him a formidable captain before grief and liquor cut him down. “I’ll make my decision tomorrow, after I speak to our survivors again.”
Sebastian longed to argue. If Eyk knew what turning around would cost him…
Still, he held his tongue. There had been loops before when Sebastian pled his case and convinced Eyk not to turn the ship around. They all still died anyways, cursed to never reach their destination. Besides, those loops usually saw him losing Eyk’s trust and regard anyways, and his best chance of stopping Maura from achieving her goals was to stay in his good graces. Eyk trusted him, and with that, Sebastian could steer him well.
Instead, he nodded. “Understood, captain.”
Eyk gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”
He left shortly afterwards, leaving Sebastian to escort Maura and Daniel to their cabin. Eugen trailed behind them for a while before leaving to go find Franz; undoubtedly he planned on reporting everything that happened to stay in Franz’s good graces. Sebastian didn’t care. They all had their preferred loyalties. Who was he to cast the first stone?
As they approached the cabin, Maura finally spoke up. “My father’s lying to you.”
Sebastian pursed his lips slightly. “I’m sure you’d like me to believe so.”
It was strange, speaking English. He preferred German, as it was his native language both here and in reality. It gave him a connection to a home that no longer existed. In reality, he would never set foot in Berlin again, and he’d made his peace with that. In here, he had memories of Berlin that tangled together with his own lived experiences in reality, but none of them mattered. He’d never be able to see Germany again, even inside the simulation, because nothing existed beyond the Kerberos and the sea surrounding her. She was as much a dream as the rest of it.
He wondered if that was another reason Henry chose him. The simulation’s programming meant many of the key subjects only spoke one language, or spoke several but not English. And among those that did speak English… well, many of them were not well placed enough to help Henry’s ultimate goal, or had others who drew their focus. Sebastian remained his only choice.
“He’s using you.” Daniel spoke plainly, voice as soft as ever. “He used all of us.”
“He’s trying to save us from the mess she made.” Sebastian kept his voice level and quiet. The last thing he needed was to cause a panic or draw attention by yelling at two passengers in the hall.
“You’re not seeing clearly.” Maura grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. Her eyes burned with a cold sort of fire. “Why would I create this and trap myself in it? Why would I want to forget not only my son but my husband as well? All these people… none of it makes sense and you know that.”
“You wanted to forget what you did to your own child,” Sebastian hissed. “It isn’t my job to explain to you what pain does to a person.”
Maura’s eyes flashed. “Why would I do this to Eyk?”
For a moment, Sebastian stared at her, trying to contain his own fury. As calmly as he could, he pulled his arm from her grasp. “I can’t answer that. Only you can. And if you want to help him, you’ll stay out of your father’s way. Out of my way.”
Maura opened her mouth to respond, but Daniel stepped forward. He wrapped an arm around her, murmuring something only she could hear. It seemed to settle her, though Sebastian could still see traces of her father’s imperious nature.
They walked the rest of the way to the cabin in silence. As Maura stepped inside, Daniel stopped. He gave Sebastian a curious look.
“If Henry Singleton wanted to help you, why wouldn’t he be focused on waking everyone up instead of just himself? Do you think he’ll wake you up once he’s gotten what he wants?”
“Of course he will,” Sebastian said instinctively.
“Then why hasn’t he told you how he’ll do it?”
The question burned in the air between them. Daniel stared at him for a moment longer before stepping into the cabin. Sebastian shut the door to avoid both of their stares.
Henry would wake them all up. He promised that. He’d fix this.
Even so, Sebastian couldn’t remember Henry ever promising he’d wake them all up. His words were that he’d take care of them, that he’d undo what Maura had done.
He never truly promised anything else.
Sebastian hated nights aboard the Kerberos. As the passengers and crew dreamed, some in more ways than others, he often stayed awake and plotted what he could do to change the loop the following day. He didn’t need rest, not since this wasn’t real, but he longed for a proper night’s sleep regardless. Even just a moment of blissful oblivion to give him peace.
He feared what he might dream, though.
As the morning light dawned cold and grey, Sebastian quickly made himself look presentable. Today would determine the outcome of the entire loop. If Eyk chose to turn the ship around, mutiny was inevitable. Even if he did not, if bodies began to turn up, mutiny would also follow. That would undoubtedly be the work of Daniel Solace. Maybe his wife would temper his more murderous impulses. Sebastian still couldn’t understand why a mutiny would help his cause.
His words, and Maura’s too, rang in Sebastian’s mind. Henry never outright promised him respite from the endless simulation. He never said he would wake him up, or wake Eyk. He’d promised that Sebastian’s actions would spare Eyk from pain, but he never said how. His only enemy had been Maura Franklin and her family, but now they both were testing his faith. They must know that he wouldn’t trust them.
They had to be lying. Sebastian had killed for Henry’s cause, and to protect Eyk. He’d killed all of Maura’s test subjects, deactivating them at various points in time or simply standing by and letting the simulation run as it was supposed to. And Eyk… he’d tried to protect him. He’d done all he could. The time he’d been the one to kill him, that had been desperation, to save him from future pain. And yet what good had it ultimately done?
Henry hadn’t summoned him yet. Sebastian would go to him soon, to alert him to Maura’s presence. He would know what to do about it, or be able to enlighten him as to why she came back. There had to be a reason, and the more Sebastian knew, the better he could take care of his duties.
The better chance he’d have to save Eyk.
The morning proceeded as so many had before it. The compasses stopped working. Eyk retreated to his quarters to drink. Franz began to plot mutiny. All the while, Sebastian kept up appearances. The only time he showed any emotion was when the subject of Eyk was brought up. He’d defended him before, but this felt different. The weight of thousands of the same conversations grew heavy and the sight of him dead by Sebastian’s hand brought a new fire to his words.
Around midday, Sebastian found himself itching to disappear. The longer he stayed away from Henry, the more likely it became that Maura and Daniel would find some way to sway Eyk from his duties. No one was looking for him now. It was the perfect time to report to Henry.
After excusing himself from the wheelhouse, he made his way through the hallways of the Kerberos. The quiet corridors were a relief from the low buzz of danger that permeated the other parts of the ship. For a moment, there was peace. Sebastian allowed himself the chance to breathe for what felt like the first time in hours.
Cutting through the silence suddenly, he could hear raised voices. One was familiar, a beacon pulling him from his course. It was Eyk.
Sebastian hurried towards the sound. He found himself near cabin 1011, where a furious Eyk stood outside the open door. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were wild, and for a moment Sebastian wondered if he were not simply drunk. It would not be an unusual occurrence.
Then he saw both Maura and Daniel watching him warily, and he understood what had happened. The memories were beginning again. Eyk was being haunted by four ghosts from his past, which usually signaled the beginning of his downfall. His behavior would soon grow more erratic as he struggled to maintain his position as captain and unravel the mysteries that surrounded him, and it would cost him his position and his life.
“Captain.” Sebastian crossed the room to stand at his side. “What’s happened?”
“I heard her. Nina.” Eyk’s voice was desperate with grief. “There’s something wrong with that ship. The Prometheus. And they’ve brought it here.”
Maura inhaled sharply, and Sebastian couldn’t help but feel a vicious stab of pride. She was the outsider again. Eyk wouldn’t trust the survivors of the Prometheus. His focus would be on his crew and his passengers. Perhaps this was the loop in which he could be made to see reason.
Sebastian remained as calm as ever, voice smooth and level. “You need rest. Please, sir. Come back to your quarters.”
Eyk shook his head. “I need to know what happened!”
“You’ll scare the passengers,” Sebastian said, keeping his voice low. “Sir, please come with me.”
Eyk didn’t seem convinced, but he allowed Sebastian to lead him back to his quarters. Once they were both inside, he headed for his desk, rummaging around the drawers until he pulled out a bottle of liquor. Sebastian couldn’t hide his grimace as he took a swig from it. If Eyk had moved on to drinking openly in front of the crew…
Eyk noticed his displeasure. “Will you report this to Franz? To the company?”
His voice was laced with bitterness. It was as if he knew that he had few allies left.
“No, sir.” Sebastian cleared his throat, lowering his voice so no one in the wheelhouse overheard him. “Your secret is safe with me.”
The response seemed to surprise Eyk; he sank down into his desk chair, bottle still clutched in his hand. After a moment, he held it out to Sebastian. “I won’t report you either.”
Sebastian rarely drank, but he took the bottle anyways. The liquor burned going down and he scowled at the taste. That seemed to bring a smile to Eyk’s face, at least. He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling as Sebastian returned the bottle.
“You said you saw Nina,” Sebastian said, trying to choose his words carefully. “On the Kerberos.”
Eyk nodded. He reached into his pocket and produced a ribbon with blue flowers embroidered on it. “I found this on the Prometheus. It was hers. And then…”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’ll think I’m mad.”
Sebastian hesitated for a moment. Eyk had never confided in him like this in the prior loops. He’d turned to his drink or to Maura, but never to him. If he made a mistake now, he’d lose any hope of saving him in this loop, or getting him to remember.
“How long have we known each other?” This was a gamble, but the safest one.
“Three years.” Eyk glanced at the photograph on his desk of his family. “After Sara… after I lost them.”
He paused. “You were brought on to spy on me.”
It was true, in a way, and under the circumstances Sebastian couldn’t help but chuckle darkly. His backstory in the Kerberos was that he'd been hired by the company's former owners to find a reason to fire Eyk. He'd never quite given them the information they wanted. “Perhaps, but I know what kind of man you are, sir. You’re not crazy.”
Eyk looked at him sharply. “I know they all think the company should have retired me after what happened.”
“I have never thought that.” Honesty felt foreign on Sebastian’s tongue.
“Few men have that loyalty.”
That stung, and Sebastian looked away. How could he believe that, knowing what he’d done? Knowing what he still must do?
Eyk leaned forward. “I was back at home. I stumbled through one door aboard the ship and I found myself in my old house. My wife was there. Nina and the other girls were there. I held Nina in my arms and then she was gone. I found myself in the ruins again. And I found my way back here.”
Sebastian watched as Eyk stood and crossed the room. He dragged the bed out of the way, revealing a trap door with a strange symbol carved into it. “I know every inch of this ship. This shouldn’t be here.”
“Strange,” Sebastian mused, as if he’d never seen it before.
“Why would the ship’s company add this?” Eyk stared at Sebastian, as if he expected an answer. “And how could it make me see my family?”
There were answers to this, answers Eyk would know if he were awake or if he remembered. But Sebastian couldn’t give them to him, not now. Later, though. He could explain it all later. Perhaps then, Eyk would forgive him his sins.
“I think you need some rest, captain.” His voice was gentle, that of a friend instead of a subordinate. “We need you to make a decision still, about whether to return to England or keep moving forward.”
“I’ve already made up my mind.” Eyk couldn’t meet his eyes. “We’ll return to England, with the Prometheus in tow.”
“Sir…”
“My decision is final.” After a moment, Eyk’s tone softened. “I need to know someone will support this decision. I cannot do this alone. Will you help me?”
He looked lost. It was not the first time, in the simulation or reality, that Sebastian had seen Eyk look this despondent. He was a man of singular courage, but he could not stand alone. His allies were scattered across the ship, absorbed in their own petty dramas and similarly focused on reaching America. He needed to know there was at least one voice raised in support.
Sebastian swallowed once. “I’ll stand by you, sir. Whatever you order.”
He waited to be dismissed. Surely this was the end of their discussion.
Instead, Eyk’s eyes flickered with a strange recognition. “Are you sure it was just three years?”
“Beg pardon?”
“Three years.” Eyk took a step forward. “I feel as if we’ve been working together for longer than that.”
Sebastian held his breath. That was true. He’d been Eyk Larsen’s loyal right hand for five years in reality. The sole survivor of a first failed attempt to launch a colony ship paired with the grief-stricken drunk who’d lost his family. That combined with how many years now in the simulation… they’d been at each other’s side for far longer that their backstory gave them. The captain and the traitor. Perhaps Eyk remembered now.
But the moment passed, and Eyk’s eyes cleared. “Keep an eye out for me. I know the others won’t support this.”
“Understood, sir.” Sebastian fought back the urge to say more, to push the point that they had known each other for longer. Maybe he could reach Eyk that way, and then they could be unified in helping Henry end this nightmare.
But the moment had passed, and so Sebastian left to betray his captain once again.
Of all the times Sebastian had brought bad news to Henry, telling him that Maura had returned was perhaps the most terrifying. Henry Singleton was rarely prone to displays of emotion. He would raise an eyebrow but rarely his voice, and he never displayed a vicious temper. His fury remained cold and cutting, clear in his word choice and his ruthlessness. Sebastian had never met the man in reality, and after this he prayed he never would have to once they did wake up.
When Sebastian brought him the news, Henry went perfectly still. His hands were folded neatly on the desk, knuckles white as if he were clenching his hands tightly. His eyes were perhaps the most frightening. They burned with a hatred and anger that would make lesser men crumble. Whatever he knew about his daughter’s return infuriated him, which begged the question of what trouble she could cause now that she was similarly trapped again.
His grandson stood at his side, face pale. The boy looked scared when he heard his mother was back. Perhaps he knew the truth about who placed him in this trap. Neither she or his father planned on saving him, especially after letting him go before.
Sebastian pitied him, in as much as he could.
“What has she told you?” Henry’s voice was sharp as glass.
Sebastian considered her warning, and Daniel’s as well. “The usual. That you’re not to be trusted.”
Henry’s mouth twisted into a cruel line. “She’s lying again. All these lies, they never seem to end. She’s a monster.”
“What do you think she wants?”
“Isn’t it obvious? She wants to change the simulation again. She wants to make sure none of us can ever escape.”
Something didn’t make sense about that declaration. Sebastian shifted his weight slightly. “But wouldn’t it be easier to do that from the outside?”
“Perhaps,” Henry mused. He fell silent for a moment, seeming to calculate the risks he would need to take to stop her. Or rather, the risks he would ask Sebastian to take to stop her.
When he spoke, it was an order. “Bring her to me. Get rid of Solace if you must. She cannot be allowed to change anything. The only thing she needs to do is help me wake up. That’s the only way any of this ends.”
“Understood.” Sebastian paused. “And when you wake up, you’ll wake the rest of us up as well?”
The question hung heavy in the air once he said it. Already, he dreaded the response.
Eyes narrowing, Henry fixed him with a piercing gaze. “I thought we’d discussed this already.”
They hadn’t, but Sebastian was a practiced liar. “Yes, but Maura, she said that…”
Henry brought his fist down on the desk. The noise echoed in the office, and his grandson flinched violently. “Don’t listen to her. She’s attempting to sway your loyalties. You’re a loyal man, you’ve always done your duty, so why are you suddenly growing a conscience now?”
Sebastian bit his tongue as Henry continued. “Without me, you’d be spinning in circles like the rest of them. Mindlessly living and dying countless times, caught in your own agony. But don’t forget, I can send you back to that life if I so desire and if you’ve outgrown your purpose. Any loyal dog can still be put down.”
For a moment, Henry stared at him, before inhaling once and rising to his feet. He brushed past Sebastian on his way to stare at the television screens in his office. “The deaths have started again. During the mutiny, blame them both to draw them out. Find a way to secure Maura and bring her to me. Don’t come back until you have her.”
Dismissed, Sebastian turned and headed for the door. In the back of his mind, he noted that Henry never promised to wake them all up.
His hand was on the doorknob when he felt someone tug at his coat. It was the boy, staring up at him with a strange expression. He tugged at his coat again, and Sebastian leaned down to hear what he had to say.
“Don’t trust him,” the boy whispered. “He is not who he says he is.”
Sebastian straightened up immediately, glancing back towards Henry. His focus was still on the screen, and already the boy was hurrying back to his spot by the desk. Sebastian stared at them for a moment longer, then opened the door.
If that was not Henry Singleton, then who was giving him orders?
The mutiny proceeded much as it had done in simulations before. Sebastian found himself locked up this time, listening to his fellow prisoners argue in different languages. Thank God Olek at least spoke some German, and was loyal enough to possibly lay down his life to get Eyk out of this. Jérôme and Ramiro, on the other hand, couldn’t understand Eyk’s frantic attempts to communicate a possible escape plan to them. While Sebastian had seen both men fight and win in prior loops, he doubted they would be willing sacrifices. Not when Jérôme’s tangled desires for both reconciliation and revenge still burned, and not when Ramiro would sacrifice everyone aboard for his so-called brother if it came down to it.
The question remained of how he could escape. If Sebastian were freed, he could turn the mutineers against Maura and Daniel. He could regain enough control of the situation to ensure Eyk was unharmed, and deliver a victory to Henry. This whole nightmare would finally be over.
And yet, Sebastian couldn’t stop himself from ruminating on what had happened with Henry. The boy’s warning echoed in his mind, unsettling him even more as time passed. In the initial terror and confusion of remembering who he was when Henry forced him to remember so many loops ago, he hadn’t stopped to question if it wasn’t a trick of some kind or a new prison he was trapping himself in. Now he found himself questioning the strangeness of his situation more and more.
As the night wore on, and the three others drifted into uneasy sleep, Sebastian found himself watching Eyk struggle against the cuffs on his wrists with a renewed vigor.
“You’ll tire yourself out,” he said, knowing he sounded defeated.
Eyk glanced at him, going still for a moment. “You could help.”
“And where would we go from there?” Sebastian shook his head. “Better to figure out what we’re up against first.”
“What we’re up against is Franz,” Eyk snapped. “He’s a good man, but he’s impulsive. He has to know that this, this mutiny, it will not end the way he hopes. He’ll see reason.”
Sebastian knew otherwise, but he kept his mouth shut. He knew Franz well in reality and within the simulation’s dreamscape. Eyk’s assessment was fair: he was a good man but prone to rash decisions, and the simulation made him worse as it made them all worse. He would not see reason, not after deciding that Eyk failed them.
Eyk finally seemed to give up, the fight leaving him as he awkwardly sat down. He stared at the floor for a moment. “I did what I had to do as captain. It was the right decision.”
“I know, sir.” Sebastian could not argue that point. He knew Eyk made his decisions believing they were for the best.
After a pause, Eyk gave him a curious look. “Why didn’t you join them? I know you disagreed with my orders.”
Sebastian couldn’t help but scoff. “I doubt they would have believed me if I had offered to join. They know where my loyalties lie.”
“A few hours ago, I would have said I knew where Franz’s loyalties lay as well. And Eugen’s. Wilhelm’s.”
“I’m sure there are others who aren’t going along with this madness.”
Eyk’s face softened slightly. “You’ll talk your way out of me trying to pay you a compliment. I appreciate your loyalty.”
Sebastian felt his face flush slightly, as if he were a stammering child with a crush. He forced himself to keep his voice level as he replied. “You’re a good man. A good captain. I’ve been happy to stand by you all these years.”
He was a good actor, but Eyk’s attention was on him now, and he knew him too well. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this emotional.”
“That’s just a trick of the light,” Sebastian said, keeping his composure. “Nothing more.”
Eyk chuckled. “I truly have seen it all now. You’ve never been this overcome before.”
“If this is what I look like overcome with emotions, pray you never see me hysterical.”
That earned another laugh, a fondness present in the sound. The easy camaraderie they’d always had felt more present here than it had in many of the loops before. Sebastian couldn’t help but treasure it. Before the simulation, in the period of peace between him helping Eyk back on his feet and them entering the program, they had been close. They developed an easy shorthand to understand each other, a second shared language. There were nights when Eyk would speak to him as a man rather than as his captain, and Sebastian would trust him as a friend rather than superior.
They’d once been inseparable.
When the dawn came, Sebastian found himself being marched out of the room by Franz and two other mutineers. Eyk demanded they let him go, but he was ignored; Sebastian could hear him still yelling as the door was locked behind them. He found himself unbothered by the development though. Now was his chance to reveal Maura and Daniel to the passengers, already whipped into a frenzy by Iben. It wouldn’t take long for them to be discovered and dealt with.
It would all be over soon.
It should have been, at least. He managed to convince them that he was on their side, and to let him go. He said he could find the two survivors from the Prometheus if left to his own devices. Sebastian hadn’t been lying about that. He did find them, attempting to make their way to where Eyk was being held.
For a moment, the three of them regarded each other, waiting for the first blow.
Sebastian knew he could call for help. He could alert the mutineers to their presence. He could attempt to simply deactivate Daniel, and drag Maura back to Henry instead. It was so close to being over.
Still, he couldn’t move. They hadn’t been on their way to escape. They were on their way to free Eyk. They’d been trying to help.
“Who is he?” The question surprised even him. “Henry Singleton. The man I work for, who is he really?”
“What do you mean?” Maura’s eyes were sharp, and Sebastian knew she remembered the last time they had faced off like this. When Eyk got in the way and paid the price.
“Your son says he’s not who he says he is. Is he lying?”
Maura glanced at Daniel. Finally she looked back at him. “He’s not my father. He’s not real.”
Of all the answers he expected to get, this was not one Sebastian anticipated. “What?”
“He’s an AI. My brother Ciaran’s consciousness uploaded into a computer, and he's just taken my father's form as a way to gain power and trust. He was supposed to guide us through the project, but he developed a mind of his own. He’s looking for freedom from the confines of the simulation. That’s why he wants to wake up. For him, waking up means being freed from the confines of the simulation. He could take over the ship and spread like a virus. He’ll kill us all.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Even as he spoke, Sebastian couldn’t help but remember strange details he had forgotten. Henry’s odd avoidance of what he would do if he woke up. His knowledge of Sebastian’s life despite the fact that they’d never met in reality. Something had always been wrong. He’d just chosen not to see it.
“It doesn’t matter if you believe us or not,” Daniel said. “But if you help him wake up, none of us will get back out of this alive.”
“That's why I came back.” Maura held her head high. “I needed to make sure he never woke up, and I couldn’t do that from the outside.”
Sebastian stared at them, horror twisting him inside. He’d thought he was saving Eyk all this time. All the lives he’d taken, saying it didn’t matter because they would always restart. He’d seen Jérôme kneeling next to Clémence and Lucien’s bodies, he’d seen Ling Yi scream for Olek and her mother, he’d seen Ángel clutching Ramiro’s still form to his chest, all of them dead by his actions or his own hand. Tove, Krester, Virginia… all of them gone in a flash.
Eyk, eyes still open when he hit the ground.
“If you help us, this can end.” Maura’s voice was a promise. “It can actually end, for good this time. They can wake up.”
Sebastian shook his head. “Shut up.”
Guilt roared in his chest. All the blood he’d spilled, the things he’d stood by and watched, all for a cause that didn’t truly exist.
How could he have been so blind?
He took a step back. “Get out of here. I won’t tell them where you are, but you’re on your own.”
Daniel frowned. “But we need your help!”
“I have my duties.” Sebastian said the words numbly. “I have to help my captain. So get out of my way.”
He pushed past them, heading to where he’d last seen Eyk. He could forget, perhaps. Maybe he could forget and simply become a ghost like the rest of them. The loops could wash away his sins every eight days.
It was that, or he would have to make a choice.
“You said I was a good man.”
Eyk blinked, clearly caught off guard by the comment. It was a fair response, too, as they huddled in Eyk’s quarters watching as passengers and crew alike flung themselves off the ship and waiting for the moment when this infection would take them as well. The comment seemingly came out of nowhere.
After a moment, Eyk regained his composure. “I’m not sure I can take your confession.”
Sebastian laughed bitterly. “It’s not confession I’m looking for.”
His family had never been particularly religious, though perhaps one of his grandparents had been and he couldn’t remember. In reality, he’d never seen the use of praying to God when man was set to explore the stars, a sure sign that they were merely cosmic dust in the universe and not special enough to warrant some guiding force. Beyond that, there was no ultimate judge who could forgive a man for his failings either. You either decided you could live with something, or you decided you couldn’t.
But faced with the truth of his own failings, Sebastian now longed for absolution.
“Well, I suppose now’s as good a time as any,” Eyk said bitterly. “Since we’re all about to die.”
For a moment, the only sound was the groan of the ship and the rush of the bodies falling outside. It was a grim accompaniment.
“I’ve done horrible things.” An understatement, but one that would suffice. “I wonder if there’s a way to be forgiven for that. If I can still be a good man, and still have done all that I have.”
Eyk stared at him. “You can’t have done too many things. I would have known about them by now.”
“Something’s not right, though.” Sebastian could’t stop himself from blurting out another half-truth. “You know it. The Prometheus, the deaths, now this… you know there’s more at work here than we can understand.”
“That doesn’t mean you’ve done something wrong. Unless you think we’re all in hell somehow.”
Close to the truth again. For once, Sebastian struggled for the right words. “I…”
“I don’t want to hear any deathbed confessions.” Eyk’s voice was firm. “Whatever is going on. Surely there has to be some way to stop it. And in the meantime, whatever’s inspiring this doubt, it will pass. I need you. I can’t do this alone. Besides, who else can I trust?”
Sebastian finally tore his eyes away from the sight of the bodies plummeting. Eyk stared at him with a feverish belief, a child’s desperate prayer that things will be alright torn between an older man’s acceptance that they would not. For a man who had lost so much, his faith in those who followed him only wavered if they turned their backs to him. In his mind, Sebastian had stayed loyal at his heels. Why should he doubt that now?
Perhaps he fell in love with Eyk early on in their shared career, or perhaps it was over the course of the countless loops they had endured together. It was the only love Sebastian had ever had before. It burned in his chest, bright and true, both a shame and a blessing, one of the foolish emotions that Henry had said damned the rest of them. But it was real. It was real as anything he’d ever felt before. The agony of standing by and letting Eyk Larsen die was not enough to dampen it, and this would be the end of it.
Henry Singleton, or Ciaran, or whoever he was had misjudged the kind of man he was. He was as driven by love as the rest were. Perhaps he thought Sebastian’s affections were an easy target for manipulation. Loyalty to captain and crew, he assumed he wouldn’t be bogged down by the grief and jealousy and hate of the others as their lives collided over and over.
The simulation could snuff out many things, but apparently not the truth. Sebastian’s devotion was not to his duty. It was to Eyk Larsen. It was time he remembered that.
In an hour, when the bodies stopped falling and the survivors gathered on the deck, Sebastian’s eyes found Maura and Daniel. He nodded once, and they returned the gesture, clearly understanding what he meant.
His loyalties lay with his captain, and would not be divided any more.
In all the loops he’d been conscious for, Sebastian had never visited his own memories. He wasn’t sure what was waiting for him at the end of the passage. From what he understood, the memories were warped versions of their real lives. It’s why Eyk’s memory was of a burned husk of a house and his wife and children dead and gone. Sebastian saw that one for himself early on, when he’d followed Eyk in a desperate attempt to convince him of the truth of his situation. After that, he’d avoided entering as many of these memories as he could.
He couldn’t run forever, it seemed. There were only a few places he could run to on a ship, after all. It would make sense his hiding places would run out eventually.
“How many of these are aboard the ship?” Eyk mused out loud as he descended the ladder. “Is there one in every cabin? And how can they fit all this aboard…?”
Sebastian ignored him. The passageway to his memory was already opened, providing faint light in the darkness. From this distance, he couldn’t make out where it led. He also couldn’t decide if that was for the best, or if it just made it worse. He tried to imagine what could be waiting for him at the end.
It might be a twisted version of the accident that claimed the life of his former captain. It had been a failed launch of a prototype colony ship, the same that would be developed into the colony ships that Eyk would lead. The ship had never left orbit, killing everyone aboard. Sebastian himself was supposed to be aboard, but he’d broken his arm a few days before and therefore was on leave. At the time, he’d been bitter about not being able to leave the world behind. When he got the news, his bitterness faded into a sense of survivor’s guilt. Even though he knew nothing could have been done to save captain or crew, sometimes he wondered if having an extra set of hands aboard could have changed the outcome somehow. It might be translated into something more appropriate for the time period of the simulation, but surely this was the horrible life-altering moment that the simulation would select to haunt him with.
Forcing himself to crawl forward, Sebastian waited to see the ghostly faces of those who died peering back at him. But when he reached the end of the tunnel, the men who’d haunted him for most of his life were not there.
Instead he stood beneath a dark sky, staring at a pyramid made of black stone in the distance. Of all the memories the simulation could have conjured, it chose the one he did not expect, though maybe he should have. The simulation was designed to torture them, after all, and why not use his newfound shame against him?
Behind him, he heard Eyk emerge from the tunnel as well. “What is this place?”
The lies were useless now. Sebastian struggled to find the words to explain. Maura and Daniel had already tried, much to the confusion of Eyk and the rest of those who had not succumbed to the calling. No one could fathom how the very real world around them could somehow be little more than a dream. Most of the surviving passengers and crew said they were mad, that the strain and impossible nature of what surrounded them simply caused them to snap. Still believing Maura and Daniel to be passengers of the Prometheus, they said they simply couldn’t accept the truth of what had happened.
“Funny, how the truth is so easy to manipulate,” Maura said, voice bitter. “Our brains have us convinced so deeply of a lie that we’ll deny anything that doesn’t fit the tales we tell ourselves.”
Eyk, though skeptic of miracles to his core, was the only one who listened. While the others ran off to try and save the ship, he turned to Sebastian. “What they’re saying, it can’t possibly be true.”
Sebastian nodded once. “It is.”
Looking between him and Maura, Eyk seemed like a drowning man grasping for something to save him. “The passages, the deaths… none of it is real?”
“It’s a dream. A simulation.” Daniel sounded far more patient than a man who’d endured as much as he had should be. “We need you to remember. To wake up.”
Eyk’s desperation didn’t wane. His focus turned to Sebastian. “You knew? All this time?”
Sebastian drew himself up to his full height. “Yes.”
When Eyk’s desperation melted into betrayal, the idea occurred to him. “But I can explain. Follow me.”
Now they stood in his memory. Sebastian still struggled to find the right words to explain as Eyk took in his surroundings.
“This is impossible,” Eyk said, almost to himself. “How can this be on the ship?”
Finally, he turned on Sebastian. “Why did you bring me here?”
“To explain.”
“How can you explain any of this?”
Sebastian stared at the pyramid in the distance. “Truthfully, I can’t. I didn’t create any of this. I was chosen to ensure it continued though, in a way.”
He could feel Eyk’s piercing gaze on him. “How could you know and not tell me?”
“Because I was told it would help you. That any actions I’ve taken would ultimately lead to all of us trapped here, to you, waking up. When I said I did horrible things, I meant that. I've... I've killed people, though they've always come back. I've lied. I've betrayed those who trusted me. I told myself it was to help everyone, but -”
“That’s no excuse!”
Before Sebastian could register that he’d moved, Eyk seized him by the front of his jacket. “You could have stopped this! You could have saved them!”
“I tried!” Sebastian tried to shove Eyk’s hands off of him. “You have no idea how many times I’ve tried!”
“And yet you failed!” Eyk’s face was a mask of fury. “You betrayed me! Will you say you tried not to do that? Will you say you had no choice?!”
“I made my choice! I made it to save you!”
For a moment, there was nothing but the rush of the wind sweeping through the grim desert. Eyk’s hands did not loosen their grip, but his face shifted slightly.
Sebastian stared at him, days and weeks and years of grief and guilt bubbling to the surface. “He chose me because of my position to you and promised that my actions would save us all. He knew what I was willing to do! He knew the depths of my devotion to my post, so yes. I made the choice on my own, in this place. And it has haunted me ever since.”
“Why?” Eyk’s voice was raw now. “Why would you do this?”
“Why do you think, captain?”
The last word viciously cut between them like a knife between the ribs, a bitter statement of fact. Eyk might be willfully blind to many things, but surely not now. Surely not after all this. The truth is out in the open now and Sebastian waited for Eyk to shove him away as a result.
But Eyk didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled Sebastian closer, until their foreheads collided. They stood like that, frozen, as Sebastian let his hands come up to grip Eyk’s wrists. He could feel the other man’s anger dissipate as he relaxed under his touch. They breathed in sync with each other, underneath a grim sky at the end of the world.
There was nothing left to say. No poetic declarations of love, of undying devotion. Eyk understood grief, and Sebastian ached from it. They understood loyalty too, the easy way in which it could be manipulated and twisted. They understood each other, even now as reality twisted and burst at the seams. It was a still beating constant, a memory Eyk held even as his mind forgot. The body remembers, Maura said, and surely his body remembered what devotion Sebastian had given him.
Sebastian released his hold on Eyk first. With a sigh, Eyk in turn released his grip on Sebastian’s coat and stepped back. He seemed as if he were in shock. “Why bring me here?”
“Because,” Sebastian said, feeling unmoored, “because this is where he won’t think to look.”
Eyk nodded. “Will you tell me the truth now? About what’s really going on?”
“Will you believe me?”
“Every word.”
Sebastian couldn’t help but relax. “Good. I’ll start from the beginning.”
By the end of the loop, there were only four of them left standing. Sebastian, Daniel, Maura, and Eyk.
Eyk had never made it this far before.
The simulation was coming to an end. The storm that signified the ship going into the archive raged around them as they stood in the dining hall, lit by the dim light of lanterns. Just as the loop had begun. In all endings there was a beginning.
“Where do we go now?” Eyk looked from face to face, trying to find a solution for a problem he still struggled to comprehend fully.
Daniel reached into his coat pocket and produced a small obsidian pyramid. “You wake up.”
“What?” Eyk blinked, staring in confusion at the device. “How can I…?”
“You should have received a letter,” Maura said patiently. “There would have been a key inside.”
Sebastian watched as Eyk slowly removed an envelope from his vest pocket. He opened it and reached inside, taking out a small gold key. He stared at it for a moment, then he looked back up at them. Around them, the Kerberos groaned as the waves knocked her from side to side. She would be gone soon. Another loop ended.
“What about you?” Eyk’s question was directed at all of them, but his eyes were on Sebastian.
“There are others who need to wake up. And I still have to find a way to stop my brother.” The ship gave another groan and Maura took the pyramid from Daniel to press it into Eyk’s hand. “You first though. The others will come after.”
Eyk still didn’t look convinced. Sebastian knew he was debating whether or not to press the point of how a captain should go down with his ship.
He cleared his throat. “They’re right. If you stay, you’ll forget and we’ll have to try to get through to you again. You have to go. Now.”
“But –”
“Captain.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. “You need to wake up.”
It was his goal, after all. To save Eyk from all this.
Eyk stared at them in turn for a moment, eyes lingering on Sebastian before he gave Maura a firm look. “Will anyone else be awake? When I…”
“I’ll be there,” she said gently. “And there’ll be more of us soon enough.”
“I see.” Eyk took the key and slipped it into the keyhole in the device. He looked at Sebastian one last time, a familiar smile curling on his lips. “Take good care of the crew. And the ship. She’ll be in good hands.”
“I will, sir.” Sebastian allowed himself a small smile as well, even as his throat tightened and his heart ached.
Eyk turned the key, and for the first time in a long time, Sebastian knew he’d served his duty well.
When he opened his eyes, after 14 more loops, Sebastian tried to remember where he was exactly.
The Kerberos had never been this bright; as he took in the clean and sterile environment around him, he noted primly that it had never been this orderly either. His memories tangled together as he struggled to remember more than his own name. It felt as though he were waking up from a deep sleep and a strange dream.
“Sebastian?”
He blinked. Someone was standing at his side. As he stared up at them, there was a familiar pull of recognition. Sebastian knew this man. He saw him in the dress of a 19th century captain. He saw him in the plain jumpsuit marking him as a crewmember on the Prometheus.
That’s where he was. On the Prometheus. Not a ghost ship lost on the Atlantic, but a colony vessel millions of miles from Earth. His name was Sebastian Bähr, and he was the vessel’s first officer. He served under Captain Larsen. He served…
“Eyk?”
Eyk smiled slightly, but Sebastian was more reassured by the way he was holding his hand tightly. “Welcome back.”