“Z-Zira?” she croaked, her eyes widening. There was an ugly bruise forming around a gash on her left brow. “Is that you? Is this real?”
She was dehydrated and delirious. “Come on,” I ushered gently, reaching toward her through the darkness.
Laith hesitated, as if she couldn’t trust what she saw. I waited patiently with my hand outstretched, and finally she crept toward the door until we locked arms. I scooped her out and she fell on her knees against the hardpan, coughing and retching, then sobbing thereafter. I stood over her, silent, reflecting on the fact that I’d allowed this to happen—for the ‘greater good’.
A newfound wave of anger surged through me, and I turned toward the dingy ramshackle square attached to a rover garage on the south-side compound.
“Stay here,” I ordered, although it was already clear Laith wasn’t going anywhere, and approached the garage. I’d seen movement in the window, and when I toggled to IR-vis there was an outline of someone within its walls. I couldn’t fathom anyone being stupid enough to stick around, but seeing was believing.
There was no door on the entrance, just an eroding wooden frame leading into cool darkness. A flickering overhead lamp hung dangerously low in the center of the room, revealing heaps of rusty mechanical parts framing the walls and corners. A table and single stool were situated near the window where I’d sensed movement. I locked eyes with a man still seated at the table. His eyes were wide, but they held no fear—more like curiosity, if I was reading him right—and his posture was otherwise relaxed.
I took a few steps into the room and stopped, staring at him. He stared back at me. There was silence for a moment, until the man emitted a long sigh and lowered his gaze to the table’s surface. He was an Evgan, just like the others, but his skin was pocked and lines plagued his face from accelerated aging. He wore no armor, held no weapons, dressed in a beige tunic shirt and pants that reached his calves. His attire suggested he was of low rank, but his demeanor said otherwise.
“I hope the girl is worth it,” he said, in Evgani.
“She seemed worth it to you,” I replied, choosing the tongue his men had spoken when they’d had me surrounded. “Tell me why.”
He regarded me carefully. “You don’t know why?”
“Why would you want her? How could she possibly benefit this place?”
The man laughed a bit, and though the gesture was one made in amusement, his expression was anything but. “The OSC must have paid you well.”
I tilted my head.
“To not ask questions,” he expounded.
“You’re the survivors of the OR-Initiative experiments conducted here twenty-five years ago. They packed up and left,” I paused, watching his expression change. He’d thought I knew nothing, and while in reality he was right and the OSC had withheld their true intentions for Laith, I was neither ignorant nor lacking perception. He knew that now. “So, I ask again, why would you be interested in her?”
“If I explain, will you let me live?”
I remained silent, not wanting to commit myself to an answer just yet. My scythe retracted into my wrist, the sudden movement and noise making the man jump in his seat. Until now it was obvious he’d thought I was holding a weapon. He marveled as my hand began to reconstruct itself before his eyes. I could tell that he wondered what I was.
“Did the white-coats make you, too?” he rasped.
“I’m not from this system. Don’t change the subject.” My eyes flicked to the window; Laith was still knelt on the ground in the middle of the compound. She hugged her knees, head between her legs. Time was of the essence.
“She saw the cave.”
His statement made my attention snap back to him. “What cave?”
He took a moment to huff the contents of a grimy can, solving the mystery of his haggard appearance. “They brought us here at first to find a cure, I think. But when they saw what we could do their attitudes changed. They wanted to know more about us. About the cave.”
“What cave?” I pressed, growing impatient.
“In the Otherplace. We could travel there in our minds. It is real—as all of us have been there. The same place. They wanted to know more. Performed more tests. Some of us had to be euthanized because it hurt our minds. Others came back only half the person they were before. The ones who remained here sought to return to the cave…” He paused, looking out the window into the night. It was now pitch black, and I felt no better leaving Laith out there alone. “They believe it’s a gateway to the afterlife. To a… paradise, if they could only pass through the tunnel.”
With his words came the memory of the bonfire, the darkness; the confines of the tunnel walls squeezing my chest and back as my limbs shriveled up and my brother warned me to turn around.
I did my best not to react. “Did anyone ever get through the tunnel?”
He shook his head. “But they kept trying. We lost more and more each year from it. Life is hard here. You have to do horrible things to stay alive. No one wants to do them, and their minds are sick. They want somewhere better and believed the cave tunnel would give that to them.”
“And you?”
“I don’t care about that place. It feels wrong there, but I am only one man and without the support of the others I had nothing. I had to please them. They believed that girl could make it through the tunnel and see what was on the other side. They would finally know.”
“How did you know about her?”
“Records from Jabron. They are stolen and traded at the Market Hub. We buy them from time to time. Information is more priceless than food sometimes. Hard to pass up on another gifted moving right through your alley.”
I set my jaw. “So you’re the ones who made the mess of the cruise vessel.”
“No, those were pirates.”
“But you organized it.”
He didn’t respond, but his silence was answer enough. With all this newfound knowledge I, too, fell silent. I would get nothing more out of this man. Time was up.
“It’s not a paradise,” I finally said.
His straying eyes found mine, alit with confusion. “What?”
“It’s not a paradise. Just a river and a bridge, leading to a place with doorways guarded by monsters. It’s the opposite of a paradise. Your efforts were for nothing.”
I could hear his heart shatter, and it was music to my ears. “You’ve been there? But you’re not one of us.” His lips quivered as he spoke. “You don’t have the gift.”
“I have many gifts.”
He must have seen the feral glimmer in my gaze because his body tensed just then. In a blink I was behind his stool, gripping both sides of his head. I twisted.
Snap.
He fell forward, face-down on the table. The can slipped from his fingers, clinking against the floor and rolling out of sight.
I looked up then, and found Laith frozen in the doorway. Her eyes were on the dead man. The satisfaction of the kill immediately turned to shame.
But Laith said nothing of the event and instead slinked backward, out of sight. I left the room and she followed me around the garage exterior. It wasn’t long before I found an ignition key and its matching vehicle, abandoned in the lot. This would make the rest of our journey much easier, if only I could keep it running smoothly.
With that in mind I hauled whatever spare parts I could find—wheels included—into the back. It was solar-powered, which made sense on a world with no fossil resources readily available. I removed the battery from another abandoned one, just in case. All of this took me only ten minutes.
Laith sat patiently in the passenger side of the rover, staring ahead into the night. Several dogs still wandered the compound, their glittery, red eyes regarding us through the darkness, though none close enough to be considered a threat. The sound of tearing flesh and growling could be heard somewhere in the distance. They were feeding on the dead. Why robotic creatures would need biotic sustenance was a question I didn’t care to explore a
t the moment.
When I started the ignition, the rover chugged to life. I gave Laith a sideways glance. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
And that was all she said. It was clear Laith was having difficulty processing what had happened. What was happening still. She needed time, and I would give it to her.
We pulled out of the garage and rode through the decimated gate, behind us the silhouettes of the windmills on the night horizon growing smaller by the second.
Our immediate threat was abated, but we were not out of the woods yet. As we drove in silence, my mind returned to the scene of the freighter tank. Those people hadn’t been killed by their captors. My only question now was if Laith knew what she’d done—;
And the answer to that question would dictate whatever happened next.
XVII
WE HEADED WEST THROUGH THE EARLY MORNING. LAITH HAD SPENT most of that time asleep, with her head tilted and facing away from me, not even stirring from the jolts of the ride.
The plan so far was to grab the things I’d buried and perhaps take the morning to decompress; replenish, sleep, collect our wits. After that, I didn’t know. Exploring the other hubs of the region was no longer necessary. I’d learned everything I needed, and Laith’s situation had grown dire. I still didn’t know what the OSC intended to do with her, but I wouldn’t find that out around here anyway.
The rover had a communications system built into it, so that was a plus. I didn’t have an offworld frequency on hand, however.
Time to check-in. It’d been a while. I’d updated the thread already; I was sure there would be questions. I had a few of my own as well.
I’ve reclaimed my charge, I began, my thoughts slightly strained since navigating through a roadless, black terrain in an unfamiliar vehicle was a challenge. I’ve also ascertained the ability to communicate offworld. I need a frequency for O-1 HQ.
Pariah pinged the stream with a transmissions report from O-1 to a military base somewhere in the middle of the system, dated a day ago. It was tagged with frequency parameters. I filed that for later.
During the interim of cognitive silence, I chewed on my lip, trying to determine whether or not now was a good time to divulge the full story. What I’d thought been a stimulant-fueled nightmare was really an actual (?) place, at the forefront of our entire situation. Not only that, but there were shards involved.
I’d known the athanasian emergence wasn’t over; even told Yahweh that. He hadn’t believed me. For once I’d be the one saying, ‘I told you so.’ Unfortunately the occasion would be bitter-sweet.
I need to speak to Adrial, I relented. Is he there?
—He’s always here. This isn’t standard procedure, though. Is everything alright?
I’m not sure, which is why I need to speak to him. I think what’s happening here is connected to the athanasian shards. If that’s the case, this contract is bigger than me. I need him to advise.
—Hold, please.
I’d said the magic words. I’d also bet Adrial wasn’t going to be the only one connecting to the stream here in a moment.
—Zira, go ahead. Adrial’s thoughts always pressed stronger against the stream, tickling the space connecting my ears and throat. Nobles had this effect; I found myself swallowing more often whenever he or Leid engaged a thread.
Read my latest update, I said, too tired to have to think it all again.
There was only a moment’s pause until he returned with, And you’re just telling us this now?
I couldn’t verify what I dreamt was actually real until now.
—We don’t dream; that’s certainly a good indication. Not without intention at least. Why were you withholding the information? Truly?
I sighed aloud, which did the gesture no good. I was under the influence of stimulants when I first had the dream.
Sorry, Yahweh; I’d have rather been scolded for bad judgment than poor critical-thinking skills any day.
—Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant, Zira. The Court of Enigmus is in observation of such superb decision-making.
I stared at the barely-visible road ahead, not bothering to respond. Better to let him get it all out. He used several more choice-words before running out of steam. When done, I said, Please advise on how to proceed. It is likely the OSC, or some faction of the OSC, is aware of this … realm, for lack of a better word, and is using those infected with the gift to explore it.
—The crux of the issue is how the infected are able to cross over. The abdaekkan ‘gift’, what is it exactly?
They’re somehow sensitive to shard activity. Historical documents suggested the ‘gift’ was caused by spores in the abdaekkan forests of Svissa. Their insides say otherwise.
—Go on. I could just imagine Adrial at his desk, rubbing his chin with anticipation.
I attached the vis-capture of the carnage following Laith’s kidnapping. Had a chance to dissect a few of them. They’re full of nanotech. Not the kind the OSC utilizes, either. This is fancier, less conspicuous.
—Alien to the system, is what you’re suggesting?
Alien to its current inhabitants. The forests have been around a lot longer than its occupants.
—Continue with your contract. We’ll talk about proceedings once you’ve returned.
I had to admit, Adrial’s decision surprised me. But Laith has seen the realm. She was important enough for these dregs to pursue her; what if the OSC plans to use her for the same purpose?
—Knowing how the OSC uses her is not part of the contract, Zira. I understand your concern, but a contract can never be reneged.
I clenched my jaw, saying nothing. Laith stirred beside me, still asleep.
—We don’t know enough about the situation to decide on an appropriate action. At this point causing tension with our alliance could potentially bring our fears to light. I’d rather keep them in the dark, wouldn’t you?
…I suppose.
—Keep gathering information, whenever available. I’ll be checking the threads on a steady basis from now on.
He severed the connection and I was left feeling hollow. Adrial had always been much more empathetic than me. I’d hoped to get Laith some form of a chance, but he was right.
She was a contract; a lesser, a means to an end. The end being reputation points with a highciv system, and more resources with which to rebuild our foundation. At every angle, she was merely a commodity. I felt pathetic, like Qaira, for caring about the whimsies of lesser lives, even for a minute. But that didn’t stop the aching guilt that clenched at my insides every time I thought of giving her up.
Yet it was all I could do.
I hated this contract.
***
I awoke with a start, staring confusedly at the fire crackling several feet from my face. I was on my side, the hardpan biting into areas of my body where fat-padding had long-since vanished. My head throbbed, my brain afloat on a turbulent river.
The surrounding darkness and fire fueled the belief I’d crossed over to the otherplace, as they’d called it, but the desert wind and footsteps somewhere in the distance hemorrhaged the realization that that was not the case. Then I remembered everything.
I was nestled under Zira’s coat.
Zira.
He appeared through the black, tossing both our cache and my satchel between us. When they hit the ground, a layer of topsoil billowed into the air. They were dusty and off-colored. He’d buried them.
I sat up, squinting through the darkness. The tree; the hill.
We were back where we’d first encountered the soldiers. A new addition to the scenery sat behind Zira, a boxy silhouette. The rover.
He rummaged through the cache and set down a canteen of filtered water and two cans of meat-substitutes as an offering. His expression was solemn; I noticed that he regarded me differently. Carefully. It was hard to explain, but I knew once our eyes locked that our relationship would never be the same. I was too famished to ask why just yet.
I ripped through the cans, shoveling the brown-black muck into my mouth, barely pausing to chew as it dribbled down my chin. Dignity was an afterthought in the throes of starvation. I washed it all down with half the canteen, feeling my stomach swell until it was heavy and rigid like a rock. I’d eaten too much. I felt sick.
Zira had watched the fire as I’d replenished. He didn’t eat, although I’d stopped questioning his food habits long ago. As I sat cross-legged with a hand over my mouth, trying not to vomit, his gaze wandered to me. His shoulders relaxed and he leaned forward, resting both elbows on his knees.
“We should talk,” was all he said.
I nodded, although not entirely certain what the ‘talk’ would entail. The emotionless stare he wore unnerved me. I hadn’t been afraid of Zira for a long time.
“Tell me about the cave,” he said, his tone relaying that any ignorance professed on my behalf wouldn’t be tolerated.
“I saw it on the wall,” I replied.
“Which wall?”
“Both outposts. There was a fire, and writing on the wall. I heard whispers.”
“Did you go through the tunnel?”
“I was never there, only saw it. But I was on a riverbank with glowing crystals.”
Zira hesitated, working through this. “Did you go across the bridge, to the temple?”
“…You’ve been there?”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you go through the other doorway in the temple?”
“No.”
Zira relaxed further. He seemed relieved.
“What is that place, do you know?” I asked.
“Not really, no. I know it’s somewhere neither you nor I should be.”
“The people that took me wanted to go there, I think.”
“They don’t know what they want.”
“What do you want?”
Zira hesitated again, unable to hide his surprise at my question. He evaded an answer. “Was there a woman in the temple? An Evgan, like you?”
Covenants: Elegy (Hymn of the Multiverse Book 8) Page 15