Fragments of unanswered conversations and unbridled emotion refracted across the mirrored dome of their shared consciousness. Once smooth and electric, their connection was now a tangible, angry thing that bulged in the psionic divide. To breach it would mean more than just a simple “hello” across the schism.
Jetta reached out and touched the smooth surface with her fingers, surprised at how painfully cold it was to touch. (Jaeia, I—)
“Jetta, stop!”
Jetta found herself on her knees, her fists laying waste to a boy that was a good twenty kilos heavier than her. They were covered in tan dust and each other’s blood. The air was hot and thick and tasted like copper with a jarring tang.
Topitrate. Fiorah. The mining ships. It was an old memory, one she had carefully tucked away, but she knew exactly where she was and when. Yahmen had sentenced them a few weeks prior to the lead drillship, and their introduction into the ranks of the other child laborers had been unwelcoming and unmerciful. Her siblings still wouldn’t let her use her talents and risk them getting reported to the Dominion, so she did what she did best. She fought.
This one was named Sniffer because of his giant aquiline nose. He was a weasel, an opportunist, always picking on the smaller children and getting away with it. Having seen Jetta rightfully win four pieces of bakken in the scramble for food, he had waited until the others had returned to duty before seeking her out on the lower decks the laborminders seldom traversed.
“Hey little rat, little launnie.” The way he spat the words made his nostrils flare. “Gimme your bread or I’ll break that ugly face of yours.”
Jetta had tried to run and hide in the conduit, but Sniffer knew her tactics too well. He was quick, too, grabbing her by the foot as she dived for an open hatch.
“Give me your bakken!” he said, punching her in the back.
Jetta had learned enough about fighting by watching street brawls and picking through the knowledge of thugs to know where to hit even though she was much smaller. She was still new to the idea, though; she had never physically fought with her siblings, and even when they play-wrestled it always ended in laughter and tickling.
His acne-pocked face got in hers, his yellow and brown teeth showing in a smile that made him look like a toad. “If you wanna play, rat, I’ll make it worth your while.”
He cocked his fist and time slowed. Jetta remembered the moment well. It was when she took her first step across the line she had feared and anticipated for months.
Sniffer missed her face by centimeters. He yelped when his fist connected with the walkway, breaking his hand.
Jetta rolled away as he cradled his hand. She could have run. She even spotted an escape route. But she didn’t.
She squared her shoulders to face him, and before he could even utter a full sentence—
“Don’t even think about—”
—her heel cracked against his nose. It was the biggest target on his face and gave way easily under her strength, sending blood gushing onto his tepper-cloth shirt.
His words were garbled now as he choked on the blood streaming down his face and flooding his mouth. She rushed him, slamming him back against the grated floor. He clawed blindly at her, nails scraping at her skin, but she knew nothing of her own pain in the din of his agony as she laid waste to him.
“I hate you—I hate you—I hate you—”she repeated each time her fists struck his mashed face. It wasn’t just Sniffer beneath her anymore. It was the other child laborers, the laborminders, the people that spat on them in the street, Mr. Gravesbury, the telepath-hating Dominion Core, Yahmen—all the people that had hurt or disappointed her. She even saw Galm and Lohien.
He had long since ceased to fight back when Jaeia appeared in front of her, panic-stricken and aghast.
“Jetta, stop!”
But she couldn’t. Sniffer was a raw, bloody pulp, his features rendered indistinguishable under her fists, but it wasn’t enough. She had to end him—she had to erase the torments he inflicted—she had to make the terrible feelings inside herself go away.
“Jetta, stop!” Jaeia put her hand on Jetta’s shoulder to try and pull her off, but Jetta didn’t understand what her sister was doing.
(I hurt Jaeia—)
It was a memory as painful as it was shameful. Jetta didn’t know why it was at the forefront of Jaeia’s mind, but it was the gateway back into her consciousness, and she had no choice but to relive the nightmare of turning on her twin.
(Jaeia, I’m so sorry,) Jetta cried .
But nothing changed. Jetta backed her sister into the wall and punched her in the chest and face repeatedly. Jaeia fought back, parrying some but not all of her blows.
“Jetta—” she said, spitting blood as Jetta plowed her elbow into her stomach.
“Jetta, stop.”
Jahx appeared, standing over Sniffer’s broken body. The memory froze. What had happened years ago didn’t involve their brother; he had been trapped in the engine room explaining to one of the deckhands why a four-year-old shouldn’t be responsible for decompressing an entire drillhead.
(Jahx?)
Jetta stepped out from behind the veil and onto the mining ship. Jahx was older too, matching her enhanced age. His hair was cut close to his head, and his eyes were bluer than she could have imagined in dreams.
“I’m glad you came back to her, but you have to realize what you’ve done.”
Jetta wanted to run away. Her brother never talked like this. Where was his soothing reason? Where was his gentle confrontation?
“I have no time to be your shepherd,” he said, stepping towards her. “Where you’ve gone, what you’ve done is beyond my help.”
(Jahx, conserve your strength—)
“The Grand Oblin was generous enough to give me the gift of his life, and I’m saddened that this is how I must use what little time he and I have left. Why must it always be like this, Jetta? Why must it always be us running after you?”
(It’s not like that,) Jetta said, tears pricking her sinuses. She fought them back with the unnamed fury that surged in her veins. (I’m doing this for both you and Jaeia. I will defeat Victor, and I will find a way to save you.)
“Don’t lie to me,” he said, his voice sharp and angry.
(Jahx, you don’t know what I am,) she said, falling to her knees as he came within centimeters of her.
He crouched down, leveling his eyes with her, but she wouldn’t look at him. “I know exactly what you are.”
He took her hand, unfurled her fingers, and placed something in her hand before closing it with his. He tightened his hand around hers.
“Don’t you forget.”
The ship disappeared. Jahx disappeared. All that was left was the naked celestial plane of the world between. No dreams, only the stars and the infinite, versicolor sky.
She looked down at her hand and opened her fist. The rock dice. Jahx’s voice came in a whisper that echoed all around and within her. (Find Josef Stein.)
She closed her fist and squeezed as hard as she could.
(So, you’ve come back?)
Jetta turned around. She was in Jaeia’s quarters. Jaeia was sitting on the bed, facing the mirror on the dresser. Through her sister’s eyes, she saw her own reflection.
(I don’t even know where to begin, Jaeia. I’m so, so sorry. I know I haven’t been a good sister—or a good friend. I’ve been so selfish.)
Jaeia nodded.
(I should have never have hit you. I should have never have left—not like I did, anyway. What can I do to make this right?)
Jaeia’s gray eyes were tired, withdrawn. She looked like a sickly husk of herself. (I don’t know anymore, Jetta.)
(Jaeia, I—)
(It doesn’t matter, Jetta. At least not right now. Things are too bad.)
Jaeia told her everything, from Victor’s latest move to break apart the Fleet to the death of Reht Jagger.
(But it wasn’t confirmed,) Jetta said.
(His last kno
wn location was on the Ultio, which I helped to destroy.)
(But there was a cruiser that ejected—)
(The Handlers’ last contact stated that Diawn had imprisoned him with the other humans on the cargo ship.)
(Skucheka. We needed him to find the woman that put a memory stain on him,) Jetta realized, (the one you thought could be our...?)
(Mother. Yes, I know,) was all Jaeia said.
A long silence passed between them as fragile hope slipped through their fingers. Jetta didn’t know what to say. How was she going to tell Triel?
(Jetta, I don’t feel like I can trust you anymore.)
It did no good to tell Jaeia about what she learned on her journey about Josef Stein, Edgar Wallace, the Lockheads, the wolves, the Jumaris, the two human archeologists, or the strange happenings at the Temple of Exxuthus. She even told her about her encounter with Victor in the museum on Jue Hexron and its strange parallels with the otherworldly creatures she encountered in the Diez di Trios.
(Azerthenes?) Jaeia repeated.
(That’s what Victor called them. The thing that impersonated me said they had many names.)
(What about Triel?)
Jetta didn’t hide her frustration. (We both left with more questions than answers.)
Jaeia looked at the clock on her sleeve. (I have to get back.)
(Why?)
(The only world that hasn’t pledged itself to Victor is Trigos, and I intend to defend her. Li has said that he won’t protect Trigos from the Motti unless we resign our command, and with the Motti so close to the borders, I’m afraid of what will happen after the deadline.)
(How long?) Jetta asked.
(Seven days.)
(That seems very generous,) Jetta commented.
(Victor’s very confident. He gave us enough time for the nations to give in to panic and not enough time to evacuate the planet before the Motti’s weapon is in range. A smart move.)
(An arrogant one.)
(Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to win. We have no defense against the Motti’s weapon. Whatever Li has is unknown to our technologies.)
Jetta turned over the rock dice in her hand. (Jaeia, I have to stop Victor.)
Jaeia sighed. (You can’t kill him, Jetta. He has too much power now.)
(What do you suggest, then?)
(Admiral Unipoesa is serving again, and he and I are collaborating with Pancar of Nagoorian. The Liberalists have quite the army.)
(To do what?)
Jaeia shook her head. (We’re still working on that.)
Jetta squeezed the rock dice. (There’s some unfinished business I have on Old Earth, and then I will rejoin you. Together we will put an end to this.)
(Why can’t you come back now? What in the name of the Gods are you looking for?)
Jetta didn’t know quite how to explain it to her sister. She closed her eyes and allowed her sister her impressions and experience, both gained and borrowed, on Algar. (All the answers—about Victor, about Josef Stein, about the Prodgies, about the humans—about us—everything is here—I feel it. You know just as I do that the only thing that will undo Victor’s fearful reign is hope.)
Jaeia chortled. (Find Kurt Stein. That’s what we need. That, and a way to stop the Deadwalkers.)
(No,) Jetta said. (We need to know about his father’s Smart Cell experiments, too. Finding Kurt’s Ark will be fruitless without his father’s nanites. They were a team.)
(A team?) Jaeia repeated.
(Yes,) Jetta said, letting the silence take over their conversation. (Just like you and me and Jahx. Before the universe decided to pit us against each other.)
Jetta’s stomach leapt into her throat. She had been avoiding asking her most important question out of fear, but she could hold back no longer. (Jaeia... how is he?)
(Come home, Jetta,) Jaeia whispered, the tears making her gray eyes shine like polished silver. (We both need you.)
Jetta breathed a little easier. Jahx was still alive, and that’s all that mattered. She just needed more time, and then she would have all the answers. (I will. I promise. And you and I will end this. I will keep the promise I made to you years ago, back under the protection of our cots. We will find freedom, we will have a family, and we will have peace.)
Jaeia smiled hesitantly.
(What?) Jetta said.
(Nothing. You just sounded more like the old you.)
Jetta smiled back. (I’ll see you soon. Protect Trigos. Keep the Fleet together. I’ll get the answers we need and be back so we can finish this once and for all.)
(Jetta—do one more thing for me, okay?) Jaeia released her memories of Unipoesa’s confessional in the intensive care unit. (There isn’t much time for Agracia. Help her remember Tarsha before it’s too late, even if you don’t get everything you want from her.)
(Why? Why is she so important to you?)
Jaeia’s eyes were the size of saucers. (Do it for me. Please.)
Jetta felt her sister’s cerebrations across the stars and knew she couldn’t debate the importance of reawakening the Sleeper. (I promise. See you soon.)
Jetta catapulted backwards, falling out of the connection forged across countless light years. There didn’t seem to be an end as she telescoped through time, gaining speed and momentum the longer she spent reconnecting with the threads of her corporeal being. The sense of disconnect brought panic, and she flailed about, trying to gain purchase in an intangible world.
“You okay?” Triel said, crouching over her.
Jetta was surprised to find herself on the ground, visor up, her head jammed awkwardly against the wall. Her nose trickled blood that she smeared across her face with the back of her hand.
“How long was I out?” she asked. Her arms and legs tingled, and her movements weren’t yet coordinated as she tried to rise.
Triel helped her into a sitting position. “Ten minutes. Maybe less. It was weird—your pulse, your vital signs—they were dangerously low. I thought I’d have to pull you out.”
Jetta couldn’t quite understand what had happened. Transactions across the psionic plane happened much more rapidly than in real time. For every minute that passed in telepathic limbo, only fractions of a second went by in the physical world. Even so, she had communicated with her sister at greater lengths before, but not with such intensity.
“Maybe it was the distance. And the type of contact. I was in pretty deep.”
“Don’t do that again, okay? Not like that. It scared me. I thought I was going to lose you,” Triel said, her eyes still piqued with fright.
Jetta removed her helmet to better wipe her face with her sleeve. Her head throbbed and protested with even the slightest movement. “I feel like I got hit with a sledgehammer.”
“What did you learn?” Triel asked, sitting back on her heels and raising her own visor. The Healer cradled her hands against her stomach, and her body swayed in nervous anticipation.
Knowing it was impossible to lie to her, Jetta reluctantly told her the truth.
“Reht’s dead.”
Triel’s face crumpled. She doubled over and looked like she was going to scream, but the sound never came.
“I know we fought. I know he did wrong by me. But I still loved him,” she whispered. The tears slid down her cheeks and made dark spots on the collar of her suit.
Guilt and sorrow twisted Jetta’s stomach into knots. Reht was her friend, her rescuer, but also her unspoken competition for Triel. She rarely admitted her own jealousy, but faced with his death, she was unfairly confronted with the breadth of emotions she felt for the dog-soldier captain.
A small voice inside her told her she was being unreasonable, but the cauldron of anger in her chest drowned it out. Reht is Triel’s choice. See? How could she really ever love you? You’re a fool for thinking it was possible. She never stopped loving him. He will always have her heart.
Jetta caught her own reflection in the tin siding of the tunnel. How could she ever love a mons
ter like you anyway? You’re worthless. You’re disgusting. You’re all I’ve ever hated.
Jetta held her breath and silenced the voices inside her head. Tears threatened to fall, but she fought them back with the pain that had laid its hooks into her heart.
She did the best she could by laying a comforting hand on Triel’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Triel. I know he was...”
But she didn’t finish the sentence. She couldn’t have if she wanted to.
“Thanks, Jetta,” Triel said, taking her hand. “I know you understand. I never stopped loving him. The Alliance couldn’t drive that from me, even if they had driven it from him.”
Jetta tried for jocularity, but her words came out sounding strangely hurt. “Who’s gonna call you Starfox now?”
Triel’s brow pinched in confusion. “No one, I guess. It was silly. But that was always his thing.”
Jetta replaced her helmet so Triel couldn’t see her shame. “We should keep moving.”
Triel said nothing as she dabbed her eyes and put down her visor. She stood there, waiting for Jetta to make the next move.
Jetta turned toward the downward slope of the tunnel and continued the descent. They had been walking for a minute or two before Triel tentatively whispered her name. “Jetta, I—”
Jetta didn’t turn around. “What?”
There was a long pause, and a heavy weight to the air. “Oh, nothing. Never mind.”
There was a distinct dampness on her cheeks and stinging in her sinuses, but Jetta trooped onwards, letting the fresh pain of heartache drown the last few inklings of hope inside her.
Not for me. Never for me.
Jetta’s eye caught her warped reflection in the metal siding on the wall, and her mind leapt to the sparkle of Victor’s diamond teeth.
Doesn’t matter anyway, she thought. Victor materialized beside her, dressed in an expensive white suit, laughing mirthlessly as he twirled his cane around his fingers. Because where I’m going, I’m not coming back.
(END OF PART I)
The adventure continues—
Triorion Omnibus Page 117