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In Addition to Time

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The signal starts as a spark of life in a conpod that should be dead, from a Jeager that won't be built for a hundred million years.

"You got a bit of... stuck in your teeth there, eh?" Chuck said. He'd been trying to be friendly, as dying together wasn't looking a lot less likely.

Pentecost flicked the meat free with his thumbnail. "Status of the repairs?"

They each knew same the other, but Chuck reckoned lunch was too much like small talk. "I'll get back to them." He wiped his hands on the ferns and kicked the dinosaur bones into the fire. "That pod's only meant to last a couple days," he said, again.

"We must never submit to the tyranny of design, Mr. Hansen."

It travels outward, past the tree ferns, through the breakers, and down, down, down.

Herc had said exactly once that he'd thought it'd been too easy, and the looks he'd gotten then–even from Mako–had made him keep that opinion to himself.

He hadn't meant that the cost had been low, but that Herc knew the Kaiju and would never believe that they would give up on something they'd striven so long to take. They would come back; they would always come back, and humanity was just as unprepared now as it had been in 2014.

He worked on his shoulder; it was getting better. He hoped next time he would die fighting.

The signal pauses at the rift, looping back in on itself. The speed of light is constant, but light does not always travel in a straight line, and so, neither does time.

"Show me." Mako tied her hair back and rolled up her sleeves. Raleigh stood at ease a step behind her, watching.

Tendo took a nervous breath. "She's pretty rough," he said, trying to keep their expectations low. "I've had to yank parts from Cherno to cover the damage to Typhoon's reactor, and the software's still a work in progress; she was never designed to run duo, and I'm not sure how waterproof she it yet." If Mako didn't help him, in short, he might as well have left the ruins at the bottom of the harbour.

"Tendo, show me."

He did.

The signal, carrying a simple message in an old code, finds its way forward, travelling millennia in a heartbeat. All the way home.

"Newton, the readings are so immensely different that you may as well compare a... a... a tuna fish to a gazelle."

"Answer this: is it a dimensional rift?"


"And is it in the same location?"

"An approximation. The depth..."

"And do we know what the original Rift looked like as it was opening?"

"Some seismic records, and..."


"Fine. No. But if we tell Marshall Hansen that the rift may or may not be reopening, and it may or may not be the Kaiju, but we don't actually know, what do you think he'll say?"

"'I told you so'?"

"I don't believe it."