by Rachel Caine
Abyin Dommas, aka Tentacle Squid-faces. They change colors by mood but don’t communicate that way. They’re born singing, peaceful, but extremely effective in combat when forced to it.
The Phage, aka My Worst Nightmare. [No entry]
—sourced from Honor Zara Cole’s personal logs
CHAPTER TEN
Binding Allies
I SHOULD HAVE known there’d be trouble when I woke up.
I didn’t sleep nearly long enough, and after so much time being on my guard at the Sliver, I didn’t wake up calmly, either—maybe because it wasn’t Nadim who woke me, but a human hand, shaking my shoulder.
I went for a knife, still mostly asleep, didn’t find one, and flipped off the bunk in an instinctive attack. I had my hands around Beatriz’s neck before I realized what I was doing, and quickly threw them up in the air and backed off a step. Deep breaths, I told myself. My skin was burning from the adrenaline, and the instinct to punch still hadn’t gone away, but I had it on a leash now.
“What the hell?” My voice was too sharp. I needed to dial down the hypervigilance. The Sliver was out there, not in here.
“Sorry,” she said. Her eyes had gone huge, and I could tell I’d scared her. “Should—should I not wake you like that?”
“Damn, Bea, sorry.” I sank down on my bunk again, suddenly losing strength, and stared down at the pink surface of my palms. I turned them over to inspect the scars and calluses on my knuckles. I’d been fighting a long time. “Bad dreams.”
That was a lie, but it sounded like the truth; if I’d been dreaming, I didn’t remember. But Bea seemed relieved to have the excuse. “I had them too,” she confessed, and I thought she wasn’t lying about it. “That place.”
“What’s so urgent?”
“Oh. Yes. Sorry. It’s Typhon.”
I realized that Nadim wasn’t saying anything. I knew he was there, his awareness hovering at a distance, observing but not interfering. I’d know if he was asleep, and he wasn’t. Just staying out of it.
“What about that old bastard?”
That normally would have drawn a smile out of Bea, but not this time. She crossed her arms across her chest, looked down, and said, “He wants to leave.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“He . . . he feels he’s strong enough to go his own way. He says it’s urgent to try to contact more Leviathan, and he can best do that on the move, with song. He needs to sing to them about the massacre and tell them of the danger.”
“And he can’t do that here?”
“No,” she said. “He says that this area of space has . . . I didn’t quite get it, but something like soundproofing, I suppose. Signals are muted, or blocked altogether. It’s probably why the Phage avoid this place.”
“Huh. Probably Bacia’s doing.” I remembered how tough it was to communicate with Nadim back on the Sliver; the farther we got from our Leviathan, the tougher it was. Bacia was probably surprised we could do it at all. “Did you tell him it was a stupid damn idea?”
Bea’s eyebrows arched up. “I thought I’d save that for you. I know how much you like that sort of thing.”
“Being sensible?”
“Confrontational.”
“Okay, yeah, I earned that.” I stood up, stretched the tension out of my body, and sighed.
I wolfed down breakfast—real food instead of nutritionally adequate protein cubes—and reveled in the feel of my clean Honors uniform against my skin for about a hot second before I realized something was missing. Starcurrent was doing something in the media room; I was aware of that even though I didn’t specifically go looking . . . Marko was on Typhon, but Chao-Xing hadn’t gone back yet and was still knocked out in a deep sleep on the sofa. Beatriz was in the control room. Nadim was quiet, but present.
We were missing someone.
Yusuf.
“Nadim.” I stood up, forgetting about everything else. “Where’s Yusuf?”
“He is with Typhon,” Nadim said. “Marko asked him to make the transfer.”
“He . . . what? Wait a second, you let Marko order Yusuf around like that?”
I felt the cool purple pulse of Nadim’s mild offense. “Of course I didn’t,” he said. “Marko offered Yusuf a place on Typhon. Yusuf sensed there is little space for him here. We are too . . .”
He didn’t finish that, but I knew what he meant. Me, Bea, and Nadim, we were a team. A solid, tight-bound unit. Yusuf didn’t need to be staring at that all the time, feeling outside. That must have been hell. I hadn’t even really thought about it, but I could imagine when you lost everything you loved, seeing other people happy would be torture, at least until time scabbed over the raw places in your soul.
“So . . . he’s going to be there with Marko and Chao-Xing?”
“Yes,” Nadim said. “The medication you secured for him has made him much better. We will keep Starcurrent with us. They will take Yusuf. It seems equitable.”
I’d rather have Yusuf here where our EMITU could look after him, but nobody had asked me, and I guessed if Yusuf had wanted to stick around, he would’ve protested his new assignment. Typhon had a medbot too, with the same equipment as ours, and as long as Yusuf had his meds, it should be fine. Right?
“How’s Typhon feeling?” I asked Nadim as I picked up my tray and cup and cleaned everything up. “Any better?”
“Yes,” Nadim said. “Beatriz told you he wants to seek out others of our kind?”
“She passed that along. He’s in no shape to do that solo, is he?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. And he’s dragging Marko, Chao-Xing, and Yusuf off into danger along with him? Hell, no.”
“You are not the boss of him,” Nadim said.
“Who taught you stupid ancient slang?”
“Is it not correct?”
“For my great-grandmother.”
“But the point is valid. We can’t tell Typhon what to do. He is an Elder.”
“He’s a pain in my ass is what he is.” I hadn’t forgotten Typhon’s brutal “teaching methods,” which mostly involved slapping his pupils around. I hadn’t forgotten the callous way he treated Marko and Chao-Xing, at least in the beginning. He was no saint, and I was not about to let him run his Leviathan ass off and get my friends killed. “Talk to him. Tell him that we’re maybe a week out from having everything you two will need to defend yourselves against the Phage. If he wants to play at being a general in this war, maybe he ought to spend a little time thinking about strategy.”
“I see,” Nadim said. “Strategy is not something my people have mastered. We are not, by nature, warlike. It’s a measure of Typhon’s desperation that he has become so violent.”
“Well,” I said, and patted the closest wall. I let my fingers rest there once the motion was done. “That’s why you picked us, isn’t it? Humans? Because we do have that instinct. It’s built into our DNA, to fight to survive against all comers.”
“Yes,” Nadim said. He didn’t sound happy about it. “You are an aggressive species.”
“Hardly the only ones. I mean, even Starcurrent can whup ass when ze needs to. Ze has poison barbs.”
“It’s a last defense,” Nadim said. “Zis people are not warlike. They are peaceful by preference. Your friend Suncross’s race are naturally prone to aggression, and there are a few others. But for the most part, dominant species lose the need to dominate.”
So, the galaxy at large viewed humanity as bad seeds. I wasn’t totally unhappy with that. “No wonder I liked Suncross so much,” I said. “Anyway. Tell Typhon what I said. It’s dumb of him to go running off without full armor and weapons, and if he can’t see that, Chao-Xing will give him a lesson.” I figured C-X would like that.
But Nadim, after a moment, just said, “Typhon isn’t happy, but he says he will agree to a short delay.”
“Generous of him, since we’re saving his big, scary ass.” I only paused for a second before I said, “You don’t have to t
ell him that.”
“I didn’t,” Nadim said. A little pulse of emotion ran beneath my fingertips, golden and warm. Amusement. “I know when to pass your words on and when to use discretion.”
“Better you than me,” I said. “My filters aren’t so good.”
“Your filters are fine,” he said. “You are as you should be.”
That was a startling thing to hear. It woke warmth in places I’d always felt cold. Empty spaces I didn’t know I had. You are as you should be. It was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to me, and it felt . . . pure.
I pulled in a breath, held it, breathed it out.
Nadim said, “Did I do something wrong, Zara?” I could hear the touch of anxiety in his voice.
“No,” I said. I wanted to fold myself into him, to create our shared, perfect union, but I didn’t. Just for this moment, I wanted to be Zara Cole.
Because Zara Cole was as she should be.
“No,” I repeated, and put all the love I felt into my voice, and into my fingertips that rested against his skin. “No, sweetheart. You did something exactly right.”
I could feel his startlement and his satisfaction. Pure, again. He hadn’t said it to game me, or get something out of me. He’d said it because he felt it.
It came to me with clarity right then that I loved Nadim. Alien ship that he was in the flesh, I loved the bright, perfect core of him. Mind loving mind. I remembered thinking I’d loved my last boyfriend, Derry, but that had been a hollow, shallow kind of feeling, something built like a bridge over a vast, black chasm of yearning. It was just . . . bodies. I’d never trusted him. I never really could.
Nadim, though. Nadim was a kind of brilliant flame that only warmed, never burned.
If I trust him, and he betrays me, this will hurt worse than anything ever has. That alone made me quiver, made me almost draw back from the truth of what Nadim was, and how we fit. My instinct was always hurt first.
But that had left me alone. Left me cold.
And I knew in my heart that this was right. Finally and completely . . . right.
But I didn’t say that. I just said, “Is Typhon coming with us to get this thing Bacia wants?”
“He will come,” Nadim said readily. “He does not want to be alone.”
I didn’t know if that was because he was afraid—unlikely—or because Typhon’s temper might snap and he’d smash the Sliver into rusty little pieces. Probably the latter. Typhon, like me, wasn’t afraid of much.
“Fine. But let him know that he’s not calling the shots here. We’re the ones who brokered this deal, and the ones Bacia’s dealing with directly. Okay?”
“Yes,” Nadim said. “He understands. I don’t think he likes it, but he understands.”
“Good enough. We ready to go?”
“We are,” Nadim said. “I’m waiting for your word.”
“Word,” I said, because he enjoyed that dumb joke, and I liked that he did.
I felt the leap of motion through my body, moving through my soul like a ripple of wonder, and I closed my eyes and bonded with Nadim . . . not deep, it wasn’t needed, but like a surfer catching a wave. The feeling of gliding through space, then the leap forward . . . it was such a perfect, joyous physical thing that it felt like dancing. Like fighting.
Like other things. But I wasn’t going there. Not now.
Beatriz came from the control room. “Did you know we’re—”
“Yep,” I said. “We’re heading to the coordinates. I need you to be on top of what we’re going to face when we get there. That okay?”
“Absolutely,” our singer said, and hummed a little tune. I don’t know if she even knew she was doing it. I felt the resonance within Nadim, a perfect harmony of songs I couldn’t even perceive with human senses, but Beatriz could. Stars and Leviathan and universes, all vibrating at their own specific frequencies. I wondered if I’d ever be able to feel that too. “Anything special I should be looking for?”
“Death traps,” I said. “Because Bacia’s sending us right into one.”
When I first joined up as an Honor, I’d never thought of the Leviathan as having predators. I mean, live ships with tech so advanced they could save Earth? How could they not be the top of the food chain, right?
But as we traveled, I kept a sharp eye out for the Phage. It was clear at first, closest to the Sliver, a sort of resonant dead zone, but the farther we traveled, the louder the Leviathan sang; sometimes it was joyous, and sometimes it was a mourning call. Either way, silence was anathema to them in large doses. While Nadim could dark run for a brief time, Typhon had no stealth mode, so that meant we rolled with full visibility.
That kept all of us on edge, though I tried to hide my nerves by digging into the files Typhon had shared with Nadim. The Leviathan didn’t process information as humans did, so these were more like contact logs—who, what, when, where, just the facts. Humans would have tried to capture an alien creature, dissect it, experiment on it to find a weakness. Which was both awful and informative about us as a species. Our Leviathan brethren didn’t have that same inclination or the ability to conduct that kind of invasive research. Not without human help, anyway, and that was where I came in.
Images from the contact log didn’t teach me much, but I studied them anyway, logging how the Phage moved in space and the way they latched on, like space insects, with pincers to puncture and teeth that I couldn’t get a read on. From some angles they looked more mammalian, but really, I needed a specimen to be sure. And that was not something I ever thought I’d say.
Mumbling a curse, I stood and stretched, flipping off the console screen. Hours had passed. I could hear Bea singing in the media room, and if I had to guess, Starcurrent was probably with her. I didn’t feel great about Yusuf going off to Typhon without me making sure the man was good with it.
“You’re troubled,” Nadim said.
Before, that knowledge would’ve raised my hackles, but now I could see the benefit in not having to explain my every mood. “About a couple of things.”
“The Phage.” That was an easy guess, and he hesitated over the next one. “Yusuf?”
“Got it.”
I activated the comm. It was a novelty to have Typhon close enough for Marko to pick up straightaway, and there was no lag in response time, either. His face was a little grainy due to our travel speed, but it was still cool as hell to see him like this.
“How you feeling?” I asked.
Things had been too hectic on the Sliver for us to talk much, but hopefully, he wouldn’t take it personally. Shit must have been rough for Marko, because he’d believed in all the shiny Honors propaganda, and for him, these unwelcome revelations had to be like learning that fairy tales didn’t always have happy endings.
“My leg’s better. Still sore, but I can get around. Or . . . were you asking about my mood?” His lopsided smile said that wasn’t like me.
“Well, I could listen to some feelings, if you need an ear.” Grudging offer.
Marko laughed, though he looked strained, twin lines pleating his thick brows together. “It’s tough. Typhon is as grim as I’ve seen, Chao-Xing has never opened up to me, and I . . .” He trailed off, probably thinking I didn’t give a shit.
Fair. I normally didn’t.
“Anything I can do?”
“For me?” His brows shot up.
Admittedly, I wasn’t known for being generous with my time or my emotions, but Nadim and Bea had softened me a little. “Sure.”
“No. But thanks for asking.”
“No problem. Can I talk to Yusuf?”
He might not want to chat, but he couldn’t fault me for checking in. After all, I owed him one. If he hadn’t hauled me inside when I collapsed, something terrible would’ve happened when I ran out of air . . . and Nadim would’ve gone mad. I shivered slightly.
“Just a minute,” Marko said.
It took a bit longer than that, but Yusuf eventually showed up on-screen. His face didn�
��t tell me much about how he was doing, but his eyes did look brighter, and his cheekbones weren’t quite as sharp. Hope that means he’s been eating.
“Are you okay with the transfer?” I asked.
“It’s fine. There’s more work here to keep me busy since Typhon is damaged.”
You both are, I thought.
“Let me know if you need anything.”
Yusuf didn’t smile, but he did incline his head. “The meds are taking care of my illness, and I’m past the worst, Zara. I’ll keep eating and sleeping and going through the motions. One day, maybe it won’t hurt so much.”
There was so much I wanted to say, but the words stuck in my throat. I could only get out, “I’m sorry. It must be so hard.”
His dark gaze held mine, sharp as grief even through the comm screen. “It’s a fatal wound that somehow doesn’t kill you.”
“I’m here, all right?” That was about all I could offer.
“Thank you,” Yusuf said somberly. “You have a truly beautiful soul. No wonder Nadim loves you so much.”
I didn’t fully process those words until Yusuf cut the connection, left me looking at a blank screen.
Beautiful soul. Lord.
“I do, though,” Nadim said then.
“Huh?”
“Love you. As I do starlight.”
That was what kept him alive, literally, no big deal. The blush came on hard, and I put my face against the wall. Even through my closed eyes, I could sense the pulse of light in reaction to my proximity. I was still curled up there when Bea came, somewhat later.
“Zara, you okay?”
“Yusuf and Nadim were messing with me,” I mumbled.
“We were not!” he protested. “He only said—”
Nadim would absolutely tell her a bunch of details she didn’t need to know, so I distracted them both, quick. “Marko said his leg’s better,” I said. “And I had an actual convo with Yusuf, so that’s progress. Oh, and I’ve got some prelim data on this rock that we’re supposed to be visiting. You want to—”
Nadim interrupted me this time. “Zara.” His tone had shifted, gone flat and urgent. “Something is approaching.”