by Essa Hansen
He’ll find me.
“The multiverse is a vast place, you’re a free entity, and we’ll fight for you, dear. You’ll be safe.”
Really?
“I insist,” En said. She turned to Caiden. “See? Easy. Who cares if she wouldn’t have been able to say no to you if you’d asked, she’s better off coming with us.”
“I care,” Caiden replied. “Graven power turned Threi into an irreverent, reckless madman. What if I become the same without knowing it? Especially if the reactions are so subtle that they don’t make my Graven effect, my privilege, as obvious as they do for Threi. I don’t want to stop noticing, over time, how I’m influencing the people around me. I have to do better, be vigilant.”
En rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but also not shut yourself off from any connections at all, or go gallivanting across the multiverse again, believing that you’re sparing others. You’re absolutely the type who would do that.”
Ksiñe made a noise and crossed his arms. “You are not more noble for refusing to admit your genetics have been a gift.”
That sank in. His capabilities had helped him protect Leta from bullies, had aided him surviving the desert, had let him bounce back to health and put on muscle faster after the acceleration, had healed a gruesome spinal injury, and were one reason he’d survived in the Casthen Harvest and had the stamina and fortitude to kill Çydanza.
“You’re right. I just …”
“Hypocrite,” Laythan butted in. “You wouldn’t discriminate against Silye because her abilities weren’t her choice. So stop turning that disgust on yourself. Just because someone like Threi uses power for self-gain doesn’t mean the power itself is abominable.”
Caiden chewed on that thought, but one acknowledgment kept intruding: the massacre on the plateau— hundreds of brutal deaths— that happened because he had been complicit in the whole scheme for revenge.
“You’re family,” Panca said.
Taitn came up next to her and nodded, adding, “In the best families, nothing about your origin or makeup or privilege matters. We love you for you.”
A flush rose up Caiden’s cheeks. Coerced or not, their bond was invaluable, and he would make sure he did good by it.
He struggled to push himself to a sitting position, then looked at the crew earnestly. “We’re not safe yet. Threi … I need to meet with him. And I need your advice first.”
He explained everything Threi had done and revealed. The crew listened. Silye sat quietly, looking pensive as Caiden laid out all of her master’s deeds and promises.
When he’d finished— having thoroughly knotted up his own feelings about it— En said, “First, what are you even considering, here? Murder?”
Caiden winced at that word. “I doubt I could kill him if I tried. So I guess I’m wondering where to end things. We aren’t friends, but do I need to ensure we aren’t enemies? Do I need to try to take the Casthen away from him?”
Laythan rubbed his bearded chin and hummed. “Let the Cartographers deal with the Casthen. They’re on their way here already. Threi may be a powerful individual, but the Cartographers are a massive organization. The two of them will have to find common ground and it’s not your place to mediate.”
“Laythan …” Caiden waited for the captain’s full attention before he prodded an old wound. “I won’t ask about whatever happened between you and Threi, but— what about Abriss Cetre? Is she really the terror Threi claims she is? Should he be loosed on her like a rabid hound?”
“Can’t say. I’ve stayed out of Dynast business. Both Graven brats are trouble simply because of their pedigree, but it’s no one’s place to judge simply because they’re capable of great harm. Capability is not culpability. Çydanza’s corruption has been visible for decades. But this— Winn, this is one of those difficult decisions where there’s no easy call with limited knowledge. Threi might be as much of a terror as Çydanza, or he could be a force of good, ridding the world of worse.”
Something Pent the saavee had said surfaced in Caiden’s mind: Bad things can make good people. Good people can make things bad. Çydanza had been killed through Threi’s planning. Perhaps bad people could make things good.
Then the image of hundreds dead flashed in Caiden’s mind again. And he recalled the countless others Threi had sacrificed over the years to test the memory flood and the rind.
Taitn scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “We know a lot about Threi, less about Abriss. Within Unity, the Dynast has eliminated most illnesses, connected planets and promoted cultural exchange, and implemented an immigration plan for inhabited planets that end up consumed by Unity’s expanding rind. The organization is driven by faith in harmony, is transparent about their practices, and have only done good.”
Caiden grumbled. “The opposite of Threi, who’s shadowy and already piled with sin.” His elevated mood crumbled. “I’m not convinced, but it’s time to go speak with the bastard. Wish me luck.”
CHAPTER 46
CHOICE
Caiden strode for the large data holosplays over Çydanza’s white desks. Threi followed more leisurely. The Azura, universe active, was parked to bifurcate the rind of Çydanza’s universe, forming a bridge for them to get inside so the rind didn’t boil the flesh from their bones and all that.
He stopped at the central console and scrolled through reams of data. Countless planets, growth rates, mortality, harvest, product. As he absorbed the full scope, his gestures slowed until his hands hung in the air and he stared. For centuries or more across every known universe, she had manipulated, terraformed, bought and sold. She’d run species to extinction and resurrected them for profit. She’d played a long game, waiting ages for the memories of lesser species to extinguish. All for profit and expansion. All so a little number would grow larger. Every operation at some stage came at the expense of living, conscious beings, the expendable fuel of the Casthen system.
“This …” The extent of the operations and Çydanza’s lack of empathy still astounded him. “I’m going to tell the Cartographers everything, if you don’t.”
“Naturally,” Threi replied, ambling to another desk to start the offload process. “I promised to coordinate with them.”
“Forgive me if I don’t trust your promises.”
Threi looked over with an eerie smile. “The Cartographers’ aid was always my plan. They’ll set this all straight.” He swiped and arranged statistics, his eyes sparkling as they sifted through data. “I’ll make the Casthen into an organization of passagers. But … there are things to hide first.”
Caiden rolled his eyes. “There it is.”
“There are things here that passagers shouldn’t gain access to, for the safety of everyone, which means the Cartographers shouldn’t have it to begin with. And there is one thing that the Dynast should never, ever see. By the way, your slaves,” Threi deflected. “The ones you memory-wiped … I’m sending them to a refugee planet.”
Guilt slid through Caiden like a hot knife. “Refugee planet?”
“That’s not a euphemism for something horrid. Refugee planets are in universes that meet a baseline physics examination. Crime is regulated, education readily available, and biomes are cultivated for a variety of species. The Cartographers manage these planets as hospitable refuges for individuals of all origin. Aren’t I nice?”
“I’ll consider that a promise, and hold you to it.”
Threi gave a mock bow.
Caiden fell quiet, gazing over the breadth of Casthen resources. If Threi’s sole ambition was to kill his sister— to remove a threat or assume rulership of the Dynast— did that make him relatively harmless to the rest of the multiverse?
He watched Threi’s face for a while as the man flitted in the Casthen servers. “You can command people. Do they become tools to you? Do you ever forge real connections?”
Threi paused, hands in the air. His smile bent. “Weren’t you also using me to get what you wanted? Am I your tool because of that? Pup, everyo
ne uses everyone else, and most of us let ourselves be used when it suits our needs.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“I didn’t have to.”
Don’t forget.
That handful of seconds of pure chaos. Blades and glaves and fists and skulls. The roar of hundreds of instant suicides.
Die as fast as you can …
Threi hadn’t blinked an eye afterward. He wasn’t a mosaic cur like Caiden; he was purebred Graven, his accelerated years bleaching the freckled markers that must have been nearly as thick as his sister’s.
“Abriss. Do you mean to kill her because she can do what you did, but even easier?”
Threi side-eyed him. “Now you’re catching on. I’m the only person who has a whisper’s chance of harming her.”
“I’ll believe she’s capable, but not that her intentions are as bad as you say.”
Threi dropped his arms and turned. The data of worlds reflected sharply over his clean-lined features and pale eyes. “Sweet soldier, you still have so much to learn. Just because you can’t see treachery doesn’t mean it’s not there. And who better to hide it than the woman every being is genetically programmed to adore and never question?”
Caiden walked, pretending to examine more of the holosplays. “I’ll need more time to see. To learn about the Dynast.”
“You’re sharp, you won’t have to dig far. May I suggest Graven Intention of Prima Luminiferia, Volume One, Unabridged Edition. It’s on a shelf in my room, you can borrow it. Don’t dog-ear the pages.”
Threi returned to his work. Caiden backed up.
What is most important, right now? Family. Getting them and the Azura to safety.
He surveyed Çydanza’s universe. It was level sand from edge to edge, dipping into pristine pools, some of which bubbled with springs or steamed with heat. Besides the desks, there was nothing in the universe of note. He wasn’t sure if vishkant ate. Most types of organic matter— including human biology— dissolved upon contact with the rind, but there were some elements allowed through, if not whole beings. Using the Azura’s universe as a bridge was the only way to get incompatible xenids through.
Threi stood engrossed, muttering to himself as he fussed with the data transfer.
The water looked drinkable.
Caiden ambled back to the ship. He slipped through the Azura’s rind and sighed. His body grew buoyant, eased. Air sweet. Decisions felt easier in her world.
He slapped the bay-door switch.
Threi turned at the sound. “Winn!” His shout was drowned by the liquid gasp of the door iris seal.
Droves of slaves spilled out of holding rooms, headed to the sleek vessels that would fly them to refugee worlds. Caiden and Laythan peered over the side of the catwalk to watch.
“I’m responsible for their memories being stripped from them.”
Laythan patted Caiden’s shoulder. “They would have been wiped no matter who pressed the button or shoved the prod. You eliminated Çydanza from Casthen Prime leadership in time to save these people from being shipped off to a nophek farm. And besides, most were convicts and degenerates— it’s a fresh start to be rid of those memories. You’re their hero, all the same. Every passager will hear the real story … about CWN82, the memory jog— all of it.”
“I don’t need to be a hero.” Caiden had a feeling he would be staying out of the spotlight for a while.
A Cartographer fleet had arrived just in time to make things messy and preoccupy all of Threi’s attention. To buy a shred more time, Caiden had sent a note: We’ll talk soon.
Inside the prison of Çydanza’s universe, Threi had access to all of Çydanza’s digital fingers, the workings of the Casthen, but his Graven charm was damped by the rind and the need to use complicated broadcast systems. He wouldn’t have access to whatever enhancers he’d used to amplify his power, so couldn’t command the entire Casthen base as he had before. He would survive inside, while the harm he could inflict on the multiverse was lessened. Caiden was willing to become a target in order to declaw the most actively dangerous being in the multiverse.
That was the best compromise he could come up with until he knew more about the Dynast’s Graven siblings.
“We need to hurry. But before we go …” Caiden motioned Laythan to follow, descended stairs through a dark rind at the end of the catwalk, and paused by a door. “Don’t be mad.”
He opened the door to the warehouse and waited as Laythan took in the aisle stacked with cages of nophek pups, lining the walls with frightened bundles of teeth and eyes. The space filled with the sound of struggling breaths and nightmare mews. The sight that once would have lit Caiden’s temper or sent him running now wrenched his heart.
When no punch or grumble came from Laythan, Caiden asked, “Can we save them?”
A steady stream of air escaped the captain, ending in a whistle. He ran a hand through waves of white hair. “Everyone’s going to want these. Who knows they’re here?”
“The Cartographers don’t know yet, but we won’t have long to smuggle them out.” Caiden walked to the first cage and crouched to make out the small, moon-eyed creature in the darkness. It was sickly like all the rest, pumped with artificial nutrients and whatever else the universe didn’t have for them, staving off their inevitable demise.
Laythan folded his arms. “Another planet where they’ll survive without treatments doesn’t exist outside of Casthen control. That’s what made RM28 so special. I know only one place they’ll never be discovered … But chances are high they’ll die in its environment.”
The gruesome little beast whimpered, and pity swelled in Caiden where fear used to be. “I’ve done days of research on a live mature male,” he began. Laythan raised an eyebrow high. “Don’t ask.” Caiden still had scars and twinges from their fight. “Between that knowledge, Ksiñe’s expertise, and Panca’s machining, we can design something better than the outdated meds the Casthen are using now. They’ll get a chance, they’ll be free for a while.”
“High risk, but a chance,” Laythan agreed. “Happy, for a while. Maybe even a long while. Are you sure?”
Caiden straightened. Sparkles danced in his vision— he wasn’t completely recovered. Although his head swam, his resolve was clear. “A chance is better than sure death, better than exploitation. The nophek gave me a chance at fourteen years old, and however horrific it was, it’s forged me into a man I’m proud to be. I can give that chance back. At the very least, Threi shouldn’t have this much potential gloss.”
Laythan smiled sadly. “I’m not sure what happened to you here, but you’re not the same boy I picked up on RM28.”
Caiden slipped a hand into his morphcoat’s leather pocket and squeezed the glass chicory flower. “I’d better be different, after everything that’s happened.”
CHAPTER 47
STRAYS
Caiden stared at the Cartographers’ white floor in Emporia, his head bent forward while a hand steadied his neck. An inscriber whined as it ground against the supercrystal shell of his upper vertebrae. He meditated to the sound and what his choice meant.
After a while, the artist— En’s friend Cheza, who had built half of Caiden’s arm— straightened and wiped off the nape of his neck. She handed him a square of mirror and held another behind him. The silver flashed as he angled it, stabilizing the reflection of a white symbol etched in the unpolarized supercrystal. It was his old brand, but upside down: the same Casthen circle with rays above instead of below. A dawning or setting sun. Maybe both. He imagined his augmentation back into pigment and the brand changed from white on diamond to black on skin.
His exhale fluttered with dark emotion as it left him, then he grinned.
“Looks great.” En rose from where she’d waited. “Won’t it remind you of once being a slave, of being designed?”
“Yes.” He rose and turned to Cheza.
“Your smile’s thanks enough for me, Passager,” the artist said.
Caiden smiled w
ider, then joined En and ran his fingertips over the mark as they left the machine ward. “If the augmentation is a symbol of my reckless bravery, then the brand will remind me of my origin. Strength can rise from any wreckage. I’m free now … free to put whatever I want on this body. It’s mine.”
“So, you chose your slave brand, overturned.” En smirked, studying him as they walked to the Cartographers’ atrium.
Caiden’s cheeks heated. He redirected. “How much did you get replaced?”
En was heavily repaired, with the exposed, still-gruesome parts hidden beneath her flowy clothes. “Twenty percent fresh materials. Most of it regrown. Panca still has a lot of work to do on the actuators and deeper mechanics. Until then, no fighting or f— Well, my reflexes are shit, so definitely no fighting. It’s a sad time.”
The Cartographers’ main atrium teemed with color and pattern as its white surface reflected a diverse passager crowd. Holographic cumulus projected in the jeweled walls of the lightseep cavern surrounding the platform. All in all, quite soothing after the dank darkness of the Casthen Harvest.
En stopped, wearing a rare pensive look. “There’s a universe where selective cloning has improved due to an anomaly in their physics. Thought I might splurge for something of my old self, something I gave up too fast while finding my way.” She beamed. “A heart, perhaps.”
Caiden smiled. Micropigment glitched in En’s cheek. Her eyes widened. She whirled around, catching Caiden in an arm to pivot him. Her hair turned pink and bounced up in curls, obscuring her face and his as she crushed him close, whispering in his ear, “Don’t screw this up.”
“What?” Caiden twisted to follow her sideways gaze. Through her curls, he spotted Taitn entering the atrium several paces away.
“Passager Taitn!” Lyli spotted him too. She glided around a desk and rushed over.
Taitn’s eyes rose from the floor. His shoulders stiffened, face winced.
Panic seized Lyli’s white features as she stopped, ringlets spilling over her shoulders. She snatched Taitn’s wrist and held it for a pulse. He froze as if a predator circled. The alarm on Lyli’s face eased into clinical concern as she dropped his wrist and probed his sunken cheek with her fingertips. Her eyes twinkled with data transformations.