Santi shuddered and turned away. He knelt to check on Eddy. The bindings were holding, but Eddy stared up at him with malice in his eyes. He’d never seen that expression on Eddy’s face before.
For some reason, he thought it was best if Eddy couldn’t see him. He tied a blindfold over Eddy’s eyes, whispering, “I’m sorry.”
Then he concentrated on nudging the craft toward the spindle, into the slipstream above that would take them out to the Verge.
Below, Micavery was laid out like a patchwork quilt, the downtown district blending into Thatch Hill and the old Embassy quarter, where visiting dignitaries from Earth had once stayed. The air was fresh and warm, as if the world didn’t know or care what was happening in the city below.
Santi prayed Marissa and Matt were unaffected by whatever was going on in Micavery.
MARISSA WAS growing a barn.
They’d finished their farmhouse a few months earlier—a small single-story structure that was much stronger than the Olaf’s old house.
The structures Marissa grew were anchored into the ground by the roots that made them and were far more fire- and storm-resistant than homes made from alifir wood.
They looked different too. Where the old farmhouses, most of which had been destroyed by the storm, were near-replicas of their Old Earth counterparts, these were made of living wood, giving them a much more curvaceous, natural appearance. Their lines were more organic too.
“How’s it coming?” Matt wiped his brow, pushing back the flop of dark hair that constantly tried to obscure his eyes. He carried an armful of wood shavings to the dissolution pit behind the barn and tossed them in.
He was working on a new bed for them, building it out of wood they’d traded for from the forests on the north side of the Anatovs, between the Verge and Darlith. Andy and a group of the Liminals had constructed a paved road along the old railway line a couple years before, connecting the two cities by land and replacing the now defunct train service.
Colin had laughed about that. Something about her grandfather Aaron and how he’d finally been proven wrong.
Marissa sighed. She didn’t understand old people.
“Good.” She focused on getting the living wood to grow straight up, thickening it out along the base. As it reached a height of about three meters, she curved the branch, guiding it into the shape she wanted. That was the first of six main posts she’d put in place before she worked on the walls. “Think I’ll get this side done today.”
Matt grinned. “It’ll be nice to have a barn to work in. But don’t push yourself too hard. Don’t want to upset the little one.”
As if in response, there was a little kick inside. Hush, Colin. Sleep. A warm glow filled her stomach at that thought. They’d chosen the name to honor the man who had died helping to save them.
Marissa wasn’t the first of the Liminals to get pregnant, but the connection she had established with her child at about eight weeks still amazed her. “He’s happy.”
“Yeah?” Matt put down the saw and came over to touch her belly. “Is he kicking?”
She shook her head. “He was, but now he’s gone back to sleep.”
“You told him to.”
She blushed. “Maybe.”
He kissed her. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother, but I’m jealous. I wish I could talk to him like you do.”
“Maybe you can.” She pulled Matt close to her, laying her hands on either side of his face. “Close your eyes.”
He obeyed.
Can you hear me?
He nodded.
She had gotten more adept at this over time, but she only used her ability with him. She’d learned how frightened others could get at things they didn’t understand, especially when they thought she could read their minds.
She found her baby’s voice. Colin, your daddy wants to talk to you.
A surge of curiosity came through their bond. She passed it on to Matt.
His eyes flew open, shining with wonder. “Holy Ariadne, I felt that!” He kissed her. “I felt our baby!”
She laughed. “He wants to know what all the fuss is.”
“Tell him to go back to sleep. And that I love him.”
She did and got a warm gurgle in return.
Matt took a step backward, looking into the sky over her shoulder. “That’s weird.”
She turned to see a hot air balloon in the distance. “It’s awfully early for the mail.”
“It’s the wrong day too. Doesn’t it usually come on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday?”
She nodded. “From Micavery, yes.”
“I hope it’s not bad news. Wish I had a loop.”
“Let me see if I can find out.” She closed her eyes and dipped into the world mind. “Lanya, can you find Aaron for me?”
There was no response.
She tried again. “Colin? Are you there?” One of the Immortals had to be available.
Again, no response.
She opened her eyes. “There’s something wrong. No one is answering.”
The balloon was growing steadily larger. It was striped orange and gold, definitely the postal balloon. But Santi should be landing closer to the highway, at the waystation where everyone went to send and receive their mail.
This was starting to feel eerily familiar.
Matt put his arms around her, and they awaited their visitor.
SANTI FIRED the side thrusters on his balloon, steering it as close as he could to the Dale-Callas household. The balloons had been modified to navigate Forever’s unique weather system, with luthiel-oil-powered air thrusters that could nudge the craft back and forth. It wasn’t a perfect system, but it did allow people like him to travel long distances with cargo in relatively short amounts of time, and as an experienced balloonist, he was good about bringing her down close to target.
There were currently at least fifteen balloons in service in Forever, mostly for cargo runs and dispersal of the bioagent over newer parts of the world. He was the only mailman, and he took pride in his vocation and skill.
This time, he was about fifty meters off. This wasn’t his usual landing location, and these certainly weren’t normal circumstances.
He came down in the couple’s cornfields, crushing a square section of the plants.
Marissa ran up to the gondola from the house, Matt not far behind her. “Hey, Santi, what is this? Special delivery?” She said it lightly, but her eyes narrowed. “You took out a nice section of our corn field.”
“Sorry, but this is an emergency.” The envelope was starting to deflate. “Mind if I leave this here?” He lifted Eddy into his arms and climbed over the edge of the gondola using the foot hole.
“Of course.” Matt was staring at Eddy. “What the hell happened? You guys aren’t in some kind of—”
Santi shook his head. “Can we go inside? I’ll explain it there.”
“Sure. This way.” Marissa led them through the rows of corn toward the farmhouse. “Is he okay?” She glanced back at Eddy, concern naked on her face.
“No, he’s not. Something’s happened in Micavery.”
She nodded. “I figured something was going on. I can’t reach Colin or Lanya.”
They approached the house, and Matt held the door open for them.
Santi smiled gratefully, climbing the steps of the porch to enter their home.
Light shone in from outside, and some beautiful potted plants gave off a radiance of their own, making the space glow with warmth.
Doorways led off in two directions from the main room. “Nice place.”
“Thanks. Here, bring him into the bedroom.” Matt gestured toward the door on the right.
Eddy had stopped struggling in his arms and now lay still.
He’s listening. For some reason that creeped Santi out more than his husband’s earlier violent attack.
He lay Eddy down on the bed, covered him with an off-white hand-sewn quilt, and mimed silence to Marissa and Matt. He signaled for rope to
tie Eddy down.
Matt reappeared with a length of handwoven rope and handed it over to Santi. “We get it from—”
“Shhh.” He tied Eddy down, firmly but loosely enough that he wouldn’t cut off his husband’s circulation. Then he gestured for them to follow him outside.
When they were twenty meters from the house, he pulled them aside behind the barn. “I’m so sorry to barge in on you like this, but I didn’t know where else to go.”
“You’re always welcome here.” Marissa hugged her belly. “What the heck is going on?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I woke up this morning and he was… I don’t know… blank. Gone. Lost.”
“What do you mean?” Matt glanced at the house, his brow furrowed.
“Just that. I woke up and he wasn’t in bed. I found him sitting in a chair downstairs, naked and just staring into space. I tried to get his attention, and he attacked me. Tried to strangle me.” He rubbed his neck. It was still sore.
“Holy shit. What did you do?” Matt put a hand on his shoulder.
“I was able to overpower him.” He looked around at the farm—the bones of the new barn, the farmhouse, and the neat rows of the fields.
The world looked so normal, like nothing at all was amiss. But he knew what he’d seen in Micavery. “It’s not him. He wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Of course he wouldn’t.” Marissa pulled him in for a hug. “Eddy’s a good guy.”
“So why come here? Couldn’t someone in Micavery help?” Matt swallowed hard. “I mean, we’re glad you came to us, but it seems like a long way to go for assistance.”
“Because the rest of Micavery has gone crazy too.” He told them what he’d seen on his mad dash to escape with Eddy. The zombie populace, the gathering down by the dock.
Matt whistled. “Holy shit.”
“I know.” He closed his eyes. “I killed someone.”
“Oh, Santi.” Marissa’s eyes were wet at the corners.
“He came at me, just rammed himself onto the stick I was using to defend the gondola.” When he closed his eyes, he could see the expression on the man’s face. Had it been a momentary look of horror? Had the man become himself again as he’d died?
“It’s not your fault.” Matt slapped his back. “You were defending yourself, and Eddy.”
“I want to believe that. I really do.”
“We’ve been here before.” Marissa’s eyes were narrowed. “You know what I’m thinking?”
Santi nodded. “It sounds like Agartha.”
“Yes.” She bit her lip. “It can’t be. We trapped Davian. I was there—I saw it.”
Santi shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you.” He glanced at the house nervously. “The worst thing is, I think someone else is watching me through him. Or listening. I don’t know… I just got the strangest feeling from the way he looked at me.”
“If so… they could be sending someone here.”
Santi nodded miserably. “I covered his eyes once we left Micavery, so they won’t know where we are, not exactly. But he heard your voices… I may have gotten you into something awful.”
“Nonsense.” Marissa shook her head decisively. “From the sound of it, we’d have been plunged into it soon enough. At least you gave us fair warning.”
“I guess.” Still, he was miserable, about the man he’d killed and about this.
“So… we need to figure out what’s wrong with him and fix it if we can.” She pushed a stray lock of blonde hair back behind her ear, her eyes unfocused, and rubbed her stomach.
“Are you… pregnant?” Santi didn’t know a delicate way to ask.
“Yes. About two and a half months now.” She smiled, and her face lit up the world.
“Are you sure it’s safe for you to do this?” God, he didn’t want to be responsible for harm to an unborn child too. He already had one death on his conscience.
“I don’t think we have a choice.” She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she smiled again brilliantly. “Colin says hello.”
“Are you serious? You can… talk to him like that?” Even now, the Liminal kids still surprised Santi.
“Well, not so much talk yet. But he knows you’re here.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll be careful.”
Chapter Two: Out of the Loop
JAYSON RODE up the elevator shaft of the Seattle megarise, lifted on a stream of antigravity. As he rose, he stared out the plas at the city below. The view from the building on the top of Queen Anne Hill was nothing short of spectacular. The whole city was spread out at his feet.
His pulse raced. He’d been chatting on his loop with this man for weeks, arranging the terms of the evening. Now it was here, and he was scared shitless for what was about to happen to him. After this, he swore he’d never gamble again.
He’d stepped into the elevator shaft. It was too late to turn back now.
His ascent slowed as he approached the three hundredth floor. He held out his hand, flexing his fingers. It would be the one of the last things he controlled until the weekend was over.
The elevator doors opened, and he stepped into the entryway and looked around. It was a round wood-paneled room—cherrywood, he guessed. Expensive, if it was real wood. The floor was cold white marble.
There was a soft chime.
“Take off your clothes.” The voice was male, firm but kind.
Jayson did as he was told, pulling off his shoes, then his shirt and pants, and folding them to lay them on the floor. He took off his underwear and socks, and soon he stood there naked on the cool floor. “All done.” His heart beat faster.
The doors in front of him slid open soundlessly. The man he’d been talking to over his loop, Stave, stepped into the room. He was likely in his sixties, though it was hard to tell. He was a strong-looking man, his hair black with silver at the temples.
Stave walked all the way around him, taking in his unclothed form. He whistled. “Nice. You’re everything the tri dee promised.” He put a hand on Jayson’s cheek. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
Jayson shuddered at the man’s strong touch. “Yes. Yes, Sir.”
Stave nodded. He pulled out a silver disk. “You know what this is?”
Jayson nodded. “It’s a ’slaver.”
“Once I put this on you, you will have no more control over your body or your bodily functions. For the next forty-eight hours, you will be mine to do with as I please.”
“Yes, Sir.” On Monday, he’d have $100,000 NAU deposited in his account, enough to pay off his recent gambling debts and save his legs from being shattered with a sonic hammer.
Was there a small sliver of him that actually… maybe… wanted this? Regardless of the promised payment?
“Are you ready?” Stave looked down, and a grin crossed his face. “I see you are.” Calmly, almost gently, he slipped the ’slaver over Jayson’s left temple.
Jayson felt his whole body stiffen and then go limp.
“Follow me.” Stave retreated into the penthouse. “There are so many things I want to do to you.”
Jayson’s fear blossomed in his mind, but he no longer had any choice in the matter. His body followed dutifully behind his new Master.
JAYSON WOKE up with a start. It was morning, and he was on Forever, millions of miles away from that apartment in space and decades in time. He’d been experiencing these cognitive aberrations—resurfacing memories, really—ever since Marissa and the others had helped him put his mind back together. They weren’t usually so long or so vivid.
It had been a long time since he’d remembered that part of his life. He’d been so young, so lost, so in need of someone else to take the reins.
And yet… had his relationship with Davian in Agartha really been all that different?
It hadn’t been sexual. But the man had been a sadist. Was there some part of Jayson that had enjoyed Davian’s power over him? The things he’d made Jayson do?
He sat up and found Sean staring at him. “You okay? You were mumbling in your sleep.”
“Yeah. Just some old demons.” He got up and stretched.
“Demons?”
He shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
Sean let it go, but he continued to stare at him, his brow furrowed.
They had a quick breakfast and then packed their few belongings away in the kayak.
Jayson went through the centering exercise he’d learned from Andy, the one he did every morning to keep himself on track.
There were days when he actually missed his old mindless, brain-fogged state. Missed being controlled, being told what to do and when. Missed not having to make his own decisions.
It had been horrible, a corruption of his soul, but it had also meant he hadn’t needed to think for himself. Hadn’t been forced to think for himself.
Hadn’t needed to come face-to-face with his actions every single day.
He sat on the riverbank, his legs crossed, his hands resting on his knees. Breathe in. Deeply through the nose, puffing out his stomach.
Hold it. Under his bare ankles, he could feel the grass that lined the riverside. Though his eyes were closed, he could almost see the river, hear the babbling of the water as it flowed down to the recently created sea.
Breathe out through your mouth.
Next to him, he could hear Sean pacing restlessly, eager to get on his way.
Repeat.
When he was driven to near despair by the thoughts that hounded him, by the allure of the fog, he had learned to take the time to center himself and to clear his mind. The trick, Andy had told him, was to detach himself from the thoughts. To realize they were just that—thoughts—and nothing more. Just let them float by.
And she’d told him one more thing—that he needed to find a way to forgive himself.
He opened his eyes. “Ready to go, sprout?”
Sean glared at him.
“What? You used to love that name.” He levered himself to his feet using his walking stick. Getting up was a lot harder than it used to be.
“When I was nine, maybe.”
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