by Essa Hansen
“You have desenescized all at once and without the appropriate therapy, Passager.” A tragic inflection strained her measured voice. “Your heart rate is shockingly high.”
En sniggered at that and whispered, “Taitn doesn’t know it, but Lyli had just started training here— before her accident— when Laythan brought Taitn in off Bielska, freshly accelerated. She knows who he really is.”
Taitn stared down at her, mouth agape, unable to shake his paralysis.
“The Cartographers have put you and Winn in my care for treatment.” Lyli caught his sleeve and pulled him over to a bench. She sat facing him, brushed his hair away from his forehead to examine him, and tilted his chin with her fingers, seemingly oblivious to his blush.
“There is serious deterioration in your retinal impl …” She trailed off and folded her hands on her lap. “I apologize. Does my touch offend you? I must examine the stressor points in your body’s wave correlate, but I can do so with gloves.” She dug in a pocket of her coat-dress.
Taitn gently grasped her wrist, then released it immediately. “No … please. C-continue.” A lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed and sat straighter.
Lyli gave him a luminous smile.
En was cracking. Her shoulder against Caiden’s shook with suppressed laughter.
“Shh!” Caiden pulled her behind a tall chketin to hide them.
Taitn closed his eyes, half frowning, as Lyli probed his neck then leaned in, bending him toward her chest so she could palpate his upper spine. Her purple eyelashes narrowed as she concentrated, piscine eyes flickering through data.
En struggled to hold back giggles. “Oh, that poor, lucky man. The torture!” About to burst, she swept Caiden away to the lifts. “As much as I’m dying to see how this plays out, we need to get back to the Second Wind.”
She adjusted a heavy bag over her shoulder. It clinked with the vials of rare, expensive chemicals Ksiñe needed to keep the nophek alive. She had bought some, swindled others, and put Caiden in fights for a few.
He pulled free of En’s arm as they entered the lift. The door swashed up in front.
“Hey, En.”
“Yeah?”
“The vishkant— not Çydanza, but the … What’s their name?”
En fixed Caiden with a side eye. “She pronouns. And she likes to call herself Adwyn, but is still shy about assembling a personality of her own. Young vishkant struggle to figure out who they are, when everyone else’s thoughts and memories impress on them whether they want it or not. I’ve tried to teach her that it’s all right to change your mind, to be a work in progress.”
The liquid lift door skittered open. They stepped out, and Caiden paused where the colorful navigation threads bunched in a circle and branched away.
“I want to say goodbye.” Caiden backed up a couple steps along the red.
En winked. “Be back in time for food, Ksiñe’s cooking something special. Oh, and don’t make a scene— the Cartographers are on your side but not everyone’s happy about Çydanza dead or the Casthen economy upheaved.”
Caiden smiled and pivoted, taking his time following the red thread, ignoring the sights and sounds. He passed the holographically painted lightseep biomes without pausing to marvel at them. Both he and the world were different now— he’d lost wonder in exchange for confidence, and confusion in favor of understanding. He wasn’t the mechanic boy from the agrarian world, nor was he a Casthen Enforcer bred as a perfect Graven soldier. He was a passager: a term that incorporated so much variety, it really had no definition. And it had room enough for someone like him.
He laid his palm on the vishkant’s door. Red hues cued the recognition protocols, the door opened, and there she stood, a ghost of form dressed in lavender clouds.
Fresh memories of his struggle with Çydanza kicked up nervous eddies in his stomach.
“Caiden …” Her tone mixed pleasure and surprise.
He stepped in so the door would close.
As she walked to him, her vapor tightened and resolved into tan skin, a periwinkle dress, a waterfall of sun-bleached fawn hair, and all the perfectly imperfect details of twenty-year-old Leta’s face. But her placid expression messed into a frown, her eyes dulled and flicked side to side. Because of her youth, the vishkant accessed newer memories: all of the Casthen ordeal would be clear to her.
Her frown crinkled into a look of horror. Her gaze locked onto his and filled with tears as she sobbed and held his face in trembling hands.
The sight broke Caiden’s dam of fortitude. “No, no, it’s all right. I’m fine now.” He gently wrapped her in his arms, but she continued weeping, staring at the terrors that lay inside him. Caiden had left them there to fade or fester— whichever, as long as they were gone in the end. “I didn’t come here to make you cry. I’m sorry.”
She held on to him and sobbed for a long while, soaking his shirt. He kissed the top of her head. “I came here to thank you.”
“She …” Leta wiped at her eyes, lashes wet and stuck together. “The vishkant. How could she use her nature that way? Oh, Caiden …” She caved against his chest again. He crushed her tight.
“I’m all right, really.”
Muffled, she replied, “I know you’re strong, but … it’s all too sad. These aren’t what memories are for.”
Caiden stroked her hair and breathed in Leta’s sunny sweetgrass scent, then frowned, pushing her back.
“Adwyn, could you … not be her? I’ve seen her so much. She needs to fade like the rest of those moments, and remain in the past.” Caiden exhaled and tried to push down all the times he’d seen Leta die. Face screaming. Child, mangled. A fountain of blood in his arms.
The vishkant’s eyes widened at the use of her name, then she fell out of form into scintillating folds of vapor.
“I’m starting over,” Caiden said. “En mentioned there’s a form you like that’s your own?”
She darkened like a storm cloud, and tilted her head down to hide her face as the particles congealed. Her hair smoked to a rich brown with bronze highlights as it curled into waves. In a new, huskier voice she said, “But what if you hate—”
Caiden lifted her chin. The last steamy wisps of formation stuck to her face, darker-skinned than before. Her features were more refined than Leta’s. Less innocent.
She said, “I’m no more than what I look like, what people see.”
“En’s probably told you this, but what’s important is that it makes you happy. You’re more than what you look like, to me. And after everything that happened, I don’t want vishkant to become another sore spot in my memory, or repeat the mistake of hating a group because of an individual. After all, I know one vishkant who’s been lovely to me.”
Adwyn hugged him tight. “You didn’t deserve what they did to you.”
“I chose it.”
“Choose something better now?” She rose on her tiptoes, lingering as if to kiss him.
This form of hers was more womanly, her new clothes sheer scarlet. Her eyes dark and pretty.
Caiden smiled and shook his head. “No, thank you. And I don’t have long to stay, but I wanted to thank you for forgiving me when I couldn’t forgive myself.”
“You’re weary.”
“Very. Will you just lie with me for a while? Rest?”
“Cuddle?” Adwyn gave him a radiant smile. Her dress turned opaque and downy soft as she pulled him to the bed. “You of all people deserve rest and care, Caiden.”
The Azura perched in the shielding hollow, while the Second Wind hunkered in the darkness of Pent’s depository, and for a moment Caiden imagined he’d never left. Hadn’t joined Threi or made it to the Casthen Harvest. Hadn’t spent days trapped in nightmares. Hadn’t murdered …
“Who are you, again?” Pent’s shriek reminded Caiden that time had indeed passed. He was older in more than looks. “Once more tell me!”
“I’m Winn, the passager with Laythan,” Caiden said. “My ship’s in your shielding holl
ow right now!”
Pent grumbled and stalked alongside him, weird eyes bright and squinty.
“Leave him be, Pent,” Panca called from near the hollow. The saavee went stock-still then folded into a bow.
Caiden walked over, happy to see Panca energized again, the core in her forehead limpid and luminous. They had discussed what to do with the Azura’s hasty reassembly and Glasliq-pilfered new shell. The research the Casthen machinists had conducted— which Caiden wiped after copying— suggested incredible and frightening capabilities in the Azura’s spine.
He asked, “Do we have everything for the temp repairs?”
Panca nodded. “Glasliq material’s bonded well. Twitch drive’s still nonfunctional. Oh— En bought you pillows.” Panca fluttered a laugh.
“Finally.” Caiden chuckled and turned to the Second Wind hulking in the darkness. In front of it, En lounged on a crate while making a complicated weave in Silye’s hair, almost two meters long. The creamy pleochroic locks slipped between colors as he maneuvered them, from lavender pink to dark blue and slithers of green. Silye sat on the floor, dismantling a heap of stolen Casthen weaponry.
Caiden strolled over, and En said, “I’ve charted a stupidly roundabout route to our destination, to clear the nophek of mandatory inspections and harmful universes. Bribed others and called on favors. We’ll make it, anyway. Go see Ksiñe. He might not look it, but he’s very excited. Panca’s IV module design is gonna work.”
Caiden lingered on the warm sight of the two of them before heading inside. The cargo bay was crammed with nophek cages, most of the little beasts sated and asleep. Each had been outfitted with one of the collar devices Panca had tinkered over during the entire trip back. It would administer the chemicals and medicaments to keep them alive in most environments, until the concoctions ran out. After that, their survival was up to the nature of the destination planet, complicated by how the gloss growth changed their physiology.
The Wind’s medical suite was as large as the Azura’s bay. Alcoves carved out the walls, and the seams of recessed compartments and drawers covered every surface. Many lay open with items strewn around in an uncharacteristically disorganized fashion indicative of Ksiñe’s excitement. The whipkin leaped all over, fetching or stowing items.
On a raised slab lay a docile nophek pup out of its cage. Ksiñe probed the beast’s neck and chest with a medical glove while data strung along the dimpled air above his other palm.
“You found a sedative that works on them?” Caiden asked.
“No. Designed one from your research.”
Caiden swelled with pride and fascination. The little beast’s pupils contracted vertically under the clinical lights, reflecting mirror silver deep inside.
“Tapetum lucidum— nocturnal?”
The Andalvian shrugged. Rose-colored sparkles bubbled happily on his face. “This generation started adapting on RM28.”
“Maybe they’ll have a better chance at surviving on Laythan’s uncharted planet.” Caiden’s cheeks heated. The one bit of this multiverse that Laythan’s kept secret from everyone … and he’s offering it for this. For me.
He bent to peer at the nophek, a delightful miniature of the big male he’d tamed. Its muzzle was short and bony, face boxy, built for jaw strength, as Caiden’s scars could attest. Most of its body was black-red skin and fur with rough, scaly legs and spine. He sank his hand into the thick mane around its neck and shoulders, incredibly soft for how coarse it appeared. “Down fiber … Cold climate? High altitude?”
“Probably.” Ksiñe actually smiled: a frightening waver on his lips, parting just enough to reveal a fine serration of piscine teeth.
Caiden stroked the nophek, the little thing of his nightmares. The skin on its face was fleecy compared to its ridged back. Its ears were erect, cropped triangles as smooth as velvet. The beast closed drowsy eyes as he stroked it. “I was friends with your dad, briefly,” he whispered to it, then chuckled, then grew very sad at the thought.
Ksiñe pushed the pup’s head to show off its shaved nape. One of Panca’s small devices lay freshly embedded, with tiny tubes along a skintight stretch collar. A small kinetic implant atop its nose expelled chemicals, triggered by breathing, fed by a pack of vials secured under its chest. “Expensive chems I make from scratch. Panca solved plasmic corrosion problem.”
Rosy hues wafted across the Andalvian’s soft cheeks. The challenge of finding a way to keep the nophek alive had absorbed him since he found out about Caiden’s plan. His ill-patched wounds were worse— bruises spreading, fluid leaking through bandages— but he looked happier than Caiden had ever seen him.
Ksiñe set his tools aside and lowered the pup back into its cage. “Take to cargo.”
Caiden hauled the cage out and passed Silye carrying a fresh one in. After he’d set his on the stacks, he went back to the suite hallway and stopped, smiling at the sight.
Silye wrangled the feisty nophek steady on the examination slab as Ksiñe attached a chem pack. His face boiled black with disgust or irritation. Silye tapped the nophek’s head and made a gesture. Ksiñe nodded, and clucked a sound at the whipkin, who was climbing and jumping around the suite and the two of them, fetching requested items.
Caiden watched for several more arcminutes as they communicated deftly without words— Ksiñe using body language and emotions, and Silye touching or gesturing. En’s braiding had gathered her floor-length hair away from her face, around her torso, and secured at her waist so the huge curls skirted over her legs.
Her fingers expertly locked the pup’s clawed paws as it wriggled. Ksiñe helped her flip it on its back.
En came up to lean on the opposite side of the door frame.
Caiden asked, “How long have she and Ksiñe been getting along?”
“Ah, right away. The whipkin cuddled with her on the flight here, and you know … that was it.”
Caiden chuckled, recalling how cold the Andalvian had been with him initially, and how animated he was now with Silye.
Metal creaked behind as Laythan stopped near the entrance to the bridge and beckoned them over with a gesture. “She can’t stay, no matter how much Ksiñe finds her useful. You’ve been enough trouble. Take her on your own ship or find a home for her.”
“That’s not fair,” Caiden argued. “You have plenty of space on the Wind. Let her stay until we finish dropping the nophek off. Maybe I can get her to tell me what she wants to do.”
En snorted. “She’ll want to stay with you, Graven boy.”
Caiden winced and turned away.
“Sorry,” En muttered. “Still tender, huh. I’ll talk to her. I know somewhere she can go for a while, the same place I sent Adwyn. Mauya— even half or quarter— are coveted, and Silye is innocent enough to land in trouble fast, despite her combat skills. She needs a gentle introduction to the real world, especially since media is her only reference and Threi’s snaky crew all she had for socialization.”
Laythan’s gaze fixed down the hall.
Taitn exited the scour room, looking so much better than before, all three of them stared. His gauntness had filled out, skin tone evened, and his eyes regained some blue. He was a trim, healthy specimen of thirty years.
“What?” Taitn flushed.
“Looks like your ‘treatment’ at the Cartographers’ worked.” En couldn’t help his grin.
“An uphill battle for a while.” Taitn missed or ignored En’s innuendo. “Injections. Diet. More treatments. Winn, you get something similar?”
Caiden nodded. Lyli had taken him through a chain of strange procedures for the nervous-system damage the memory flood had inflicted. “She said she’d bring us extra dilu—” He cut off when he spotted Lyli approaching with Pent leching at her heels. Caiden waved.
Lyli expertly dodged the saavee’s rapid-fire words. He slinked away as Taitn stalked over to meet her at the entrance. She carried a large purple canister in both arms. Snowy curls spilled around it. The hovering spotlights or the Wi
nd’s ruddy glow made her appear less ghostly diaphanous than usual.
“I have brought your and Passager Winn’s extra solvents and physics for your trip away,” she said cheerfully. “In your case, it will not be enough for longer than your intended travel. Please promise you will return for further clinical treatment?”
En chuckled and whispered, “Treatment.”
Caiden walked over to take the canister from Lyli. “Thanks. For this and the earlier care.”
She returned his smile and bowed. “It is a Cartographer’s duty to see that all passagers are well and accounted for. I am glad you are well, and for what you have done.”
Up close, her face was obviously powder-brushed white to appear more opaque. Her hands still had the ghost of bones past her milky skin. Her eyes widened when she saw that Caiden had noticed, and she dropped her gaze, for the first time losing her graceful, clinical confidence.
Caiden strolled back to En and Laythan inside the cargo bay. Taitn hesitated, then stepped closer to Lyli and brushed a palm across her cheek, coming away with a smudge of powder. “You don’t need it.”
Lyli blinked in surprise. Her embarrassment crumbled and she laughed— a sweet, lustrous sound. “And you do not need to be shy, Taitn Maray. If I could wipe that away, I would.”
“You can.” Taitn smiled, his own reservations dashed. He leaned down for a kiss.
En squeezed Caiden’s arm painfully tightly. Caiden glared and tugged but couldn’t pull from En’s augmented strength.
“Took him damn long enough,” En muttered. “Nice going, Lyli. Patience of a saint.”
Lyli’s heart was beating visibly faster when Taitn pulled out of their tender kiss. She covered her chest with her hands, pink flushing her powdered cheeks.
Taitn took her hands in his and curled them away. “You don’t need to hide.”
“Neither do you.” Lyli leaned toward him.