by Rachel Caine
“No,” I said. “Those Phage are different. They’re not hurting anyone.”
“Hurting my profits!”
“Phage gotta eat, Suncross. Would you rather they were devouring your ship?”
“Would rather they die in a fire,” he groused, but I could tell it was just grumpiness. “Fuel is refined and ready. Ready for travel.”
“Good,” I said. “Because we are too.”
He hesitated, then said, “Zeerakull, I saw an unusual thing. Did your Leviathan . . . glow?”
“I think he did.”
“Ah. Is normal?”
“Well, I don’t know if it’s normal,” I said. “But it’s damn good.”
He laughed. The rest of them laughed with him, and one by one, the Bruqvisz saluted us. “Let’s move out. We have a god to kill.”
“I like where your head is, but has anybody got a lock on his location?” I asked. “Does Typhon have anything?”
Bea shook her head. “No. I spoke to the whole crew and they’re worried. And it makes me nervous.”
I had to agree with her. “If he’s marshaling power, he must be planning something terrible, and I hate that we can’t prevent it. If we had some idea where he was headed, we could at least warn the local populace.”
Suncross cut in with, “Send new coordinates when you know where the fight is.” Then he dropped offscreen.
I’d heard of people having out-of-body experiences when they died, walking into the light or seeing lost loved ones, but for me, it was only dark. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but for sure, I’d grab on to the people I cared about, just in case there was nothing more waiting. For now, I pushed that fear to the back of my head. I couldn’t let this shut me down, because if I let myself feel the full depth of what had happened today, I might not be able to push forward, and inertia might equal permanent death, if not for me, then for Lifekiller’s as-yet-unknown victims.
With a faint sigh, I left Bea scanning and went to look for Starcurrent. I’d meant to check on zim much sooner, but events got out of control. As expected, I found zim in the media room, lights dimmed, with some incomprehensible noise blaring. It must be Abyin Dommas music, and I paused to listen, but I couldn’t make sense of the disparate elements.
When Starcurrent noticed me, ze lowered the volume. “Need something?”
It was a curt question from the usually warm Starcurrent, which told me ze wanted to be left alone, but what we wanted wasn’t always best for us. I sat down in a chair nearby. “Just to talk for a bit. How’re you doing?”
“Not good,” said Starcurrent.
Yeah, that was obvious. “I wish there was something I could do. Maybe once we defeat the god-king, the council will reconsider your banishment?”
“Possible.” Ze didn’t sound hopeful, however.
Okay, this wasn’t going great, so I tried cheering zim up. “You hadn’t been back to Greenheld for a while, right? So just look on this as continuing your travels.”
Starcurrent’s tendrils flared and tentacles stirred as zis color sharpened from gray to a ruddy hue. “Choosing not to go is different from not being allowed to stay.”
“You blame us?”
Starcurrent sat quiet. I could have defended myself by saying ze was the one who technically woke up the god-king by taking those samples, but I’d pushed for us to do that mission because we had to outfit our Leviathan to fight the Phage. There was no way to avoid my share of the blame for what was currently going down.
I doubted I could cheer zim up, so I stood. “I’ll leave you with the music.”
“Thank you for coming to me,” said Starcurrent.
Well, at least ze appreciated the effort, even if I didn’t get results. As I headed out, my handheld buzzed in my pocket, alerting me to an incoming call in Ops. I hustled there in time to see Bea connecting with Chao-Xing aboard Typhon. “I found the god-king’s trail. And we should hurry if we intend to catch him.”
Typhon’s info seemed solid; Nadim double-checked it and came to the same conclusions. It wasn’t like Lifekiller left a giant trail of destruction for us to follow—surprisingly—but more of a veering course that seemed to be looking for things. He only stopped when he found something he wanted/needed. But since we didn’t have his shopping list, that was going to make things more difficult. We could only see where he’d been, not where he was going.
Even with the speed of Leviathan, we couldn’t keep up with a wildly zigzagging monster on a quest when we had no idea what the quest was for. One small planetoid had been reduced to rubble, and we didn’t know what he’d gotten out of that. Another icy planet spinning at the very outer edges of its system had half of it sliced—or eaten—away.
Chao-Xing and I studied it until our eyes burned, and I finally called a halt to stagger off to a much-needed rest.
Nadim woke me from a sound sleep with a tug so insistent that my head hurt. “What’s wrong?” I asked, rubbing my temple.
“Zara . . . I hear others. Leviathan song.”
I sat up in bed, touching him for reassurance that I was awake. “Are you sure? You said they were probably scared after the Gathering.”
“There’s no doubt.” Nadim was practically singing himself, his happiness bubbling up until it filled my head like a fizzy drink, effervescence in my veins.
“How many are calling?”
“Two.”
“So we found some survivors. That’s fantastic, Nadim. I’m so glad.” I stroked a fingertip down the wall, admiring the rosy color that kindled with my touch. These other Leviathan must not have made it to the meet before the Phage struck. Maybe they’d encountered the wreckage after we fought?
Nadim and Typhon had both thought they were the only ones left in this sector of the galaxy; they must be euphoric right now. I dropped lightly into the bond and sensed Bea sleeping. If she wasn’t waking on her own, considering our boy’s excitement, she must be exhausted. I could fill her in later.
“Where are they, sweetheart?” He’d said he enjoyed that endearment and it was such a small thing to make him happy.
“They want to join us.” He sounded ambivalent.
I wouldn’t want Mom and Kiz jumping on board when we were headed for a fight, but more than that, how could we trust these new cousins? We got word from Earth that we were being hunted. What if these Leviathan were working for the Honors program? Nadim couldn’t lie, but Typhon had done a damn good job of covering up their secret war.
“In hunting down Lifekiller?” That could be a cover for their real intentions.
“Yes. They offer aid, but . . .”
“You don’t want to pull them into this situation.” It would hurt Nadim if I opened with talk about treacherous live ships, so I leaned back and closed my eyes, falling into him so I could get a better sense of where he was mentally. “But you don’t like leaving them alone either.”
“Alone, they may not be able to withstand the Phage and Lifekiller if they target them. What do you think we should do?” he asked.
“There’s no right answer. If shit goes bad fighting the god-king you’ll blame yourself. But if your brethren get in trouble with the Phage or some other damn thing, you’ll feel bad about that too.” I took a breath. He wouldn’t like hearing this, but . . . “There’s also a chance they might be working for the Honors program.”
“Hunting us.”
“Yeah.”
“I hope that’s not true. There are so few of us left. What should we do, Zara?”
“I know you want to give your cousins the benefit of the doubt, so I say tell them where we’re headed. We could use backup against the god-king, but if this is a trick, well. We hope for the best and plan for the worst.”
There was a thoughtful pause. “I agree, Zara. I will sing our destination.”
“Could we do it together?”
I bonded with him and Zadim sparked to life, our consciousness spinning outward. We could hear our distant kindred, resonance that filled us with joy and relief and th
e absolute sweetness of their survival. Their song carried a message of hope and yearning, of constant seeking and finally finding. We missed the shimmer of starlight on our skin, but the speed was beautiful, and the universe was ours.
For the first time, we wondered if the Phage’s relentless pursuit of the Leviathan might be residual programming, left by the god-king’s species to destroy their most dangerous enemies. If that was true, the Leviathan might be the key to all of this.
Exultant, we sang where we were going, sang of our plans and what must happen next.
In time, the call came back: We are coming.
Jubilant, we broke—and I dropped into my own body, at once missing that sense of complete union but also drained and in a cold sweat. I had no sense for how long it had been, but my muscles were stiff, and my whole body had gone cold. It probably wasn’t a good idea to stay bonded that long.
“Are you well, Zara?”
“I’m fine.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. I just needed food and sleep and not to lose myself in Nadim.
“Get some rest if you can. You’ll need all your energy.”
He probably didn’t mean for that to sound ominous, but I couldn’t help a little shiver of anxiety. I lay back down in bed, but sleep stayed just out of reach.
Maybe our bond actions roused Bea after all because a few minutes later, she buzzed at my door and I called her in. “Something wrong?”
She padded over to my bed, pretty as an antique painting in the faint light. “You and Nadim—I felt . . .”
“Not left out, I hope?”
Shaking her head, she perched on the edge of my bunk. “No, but I’m wondering what’s up. Whatever it was woke me from a sound sleep.”
“Come in, if you want. I’ll tell you everything.”
A flash of white teeth in a teasing smile. “Are you asking me to sleep with you, Z?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I mumbled. Which was technically true.
“Then . . .” She slipped under the covers and snuggled her back against me. “Is it okay if you’re the big spoon for a bit?”
“I’m good with that.” I wrapped an arm around her and rested my chin against softly scented curls that tickled my nose.
She felt soft and warm against me, solid and lovely, and . . . yeah, I could get used to this. Nadim swirled at the edge of my consciousness, and I could tell he wanted in, so I opened enough for him to join the loop, and the warm feedback circled between us as I told her that more Leviathan were on their way.
“That’s fantastic news.” Bea sounded sleepy, nestling into the covers like she belonged here. “Do they have crew too?”
I hadn’t thought to ask, and it was the farthest thing from my mind right now.
Brushing her hair aside, I kissed the curve of her shoulder and a little shiver ran through her. She slid a hand back and touched my thigh, as soft a caress as I ever knew, and I wanted to do more, touch more, feel more, except I was fading too. That would teach me to give everything to Nadim and leave nothing for Bea.
He protested softly in my head. I didn’t mean to wear you out, Zara. I’m sorry that you can’t . . . But he didn’t have the words for what I wanted to do with Bea because it wasn’t part of his life cycle. I wasn’t about to start explaining that in the middle of the night, though part of me wondered if it was possible for us to teach him about that through the bond, and whether it was even a good idea.
It’s not the time, anyway.
I fell asleep curled up with Bea and woke alone. She had teased me about sneaking out last time, so there was no way I wouldn’t do the same. Except she was on the comm with Chao-Xing, and what I heard just about froze my blood in my veins.
“Just like last time,” Chao-Xing was saying. “See the scans? We’re too late.”
Two wildly different planets flashed on our screen, one bright and brilliant with life, the other ashes and charred dust. I stared at the screen and rubbed my hands up and down my arms. Too late to stop him, let alone fight.
“How many . . . ?” I barely got the question out.
“Unpopulated. That’s the strange part; he doesn’t seem to be after living beings right now. But this world was rich in uranium, which I think might be key for some metabolic process. I’m speculating, but I suspect Lifekiller’s needs might evolve according to the power he wields. Or what he plans to wield.”
“So in addition to absorbing organic life, he needs fuel?” Like the Leviathan drank starlight, I thought, but I wasn’t about to say that aloud.
“If that’s true, we could predict his next target based on the planetary composition,” Bea said.
“Already on it,” Chao-Xing said. “We’ll find out if I’m right soon enough.”
Marko and Yusuf were working on something behind her, talking among themselves and comparing handhelds. I got in on the action with Bea, as we scanned for planets close by that had strong pockets of uranium.
Nadim said, “The cousins are coming. Shall we wait for them?”
I had the ominous feeling that waiting would cost lives.
AFTER-MARKET REPORT ON AUTONOMOUS COMBAT MODEL NERO, SERIAL NUMBER XK62D3A921760G5
Per the request of the customer (see redacted files) the following add-on features have been installed:
Autonomous protocol redirect module (the “learning core”)
Upgraded restraint system with embedded protocols
Preloaded legal and judiciary module, activated only after first goal achieved
Primary target acquisition facial recognition and DNA sequence loaded
Latest model SR12 platinum-poly armor
Embedded weapons package per customer request
On a personal note, the team hopes this purchase of the Nero is intended as a showpiece purely for demonstration and will not be used in real-world situations; this model is designed for the most summary of executions, and the legally required but inactive legal module is to be brought online only after a murder has been committed. We have . . . concerns.
Who’s this buyer, exactly?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lost Luck
“WE CAN’T STAY here,” I said. “Nothing here for us to do, and if Lifekiller’s after something we can predict, maybe we can get ahead of him for a change.”
“Hold up.” That was Marko, over the comms. Chao-Xing looked over her shoulder; he must have been looking at something on another console. “Since when did Lifekiller use modified terraforming devices?”
“Sorry, what?”
“This planet’s been mined,” he said. “But not by Lifekiller. I mean, the way he ravages a world is different. He’s been here, but somebody used a terraformer to strip the trace amounts of uranium he left.”
I had no damn idea.
“This might have nothing at all to do with Lifekiller—” I cut myself off because I spotted something on the surface. Wreckage. “Wait….” I swapped positions with Beatriz and did a quick analysis. “Okay, so, I’ve never seen anything like this before.” I got Suncross on the comm, figuring he would know more. “Any idea who left this behind?”
The lizards weren’t drunk; that was a blessing. “Looks like Elaszi tech, Zeerakull.”
“Fucking blobs,” I muttered.
“Ah. Yes. Scavengers.” Nadim had a little distaste in that tone. He didn’t care for the Elaszi any more than I did. Well, one had tried to eat me. And codejacked me to carry a virus into a secured location or die. I had issues with at least one of them.
“It looks like it was destroyed by weapons fire. Maybe rival scavengers looking to score?”
Suncross’s ruff flared, probably in excitement. “Could be good stuff waiting. Give me a bit, will check it out. Or if you can’t wait, we’ll catch up.”
I glanced at Bea. “Can we spare half an hour for the boys to do a salvage run?”
She didn’t look thrilled, but finally she nodded. “We should find out why the blobs are prowling after Lifekiller if we can. The last thing we nee
d is for them to decide to pledge allegiance to the god-king.”
Yeah, that was undeniable. From what we’d seen on the Sliver, the blobs weren’t big on caring about other sentient life. They cared about themselves and about profit, maybe not even in that order.
“Going in for a closer look,” Suncross said.
Another lizard—Ghostwalk, I thought—waved four palms in a gesture of approval. “Glorious salvage! They will write stories of us.”
“You know they do that after you’re dead, right?”
“Worth it,” said Suncross. “Will keep the channel open, update you on what we find.”
Normally, I’d offer to go with because planetary missions were like candy to me, but picking me up would only slow things down. Plus, I’d died on the last away mission. I’d settle for watching this time. I moved away from the console and Nadim vanished the wall for me, granting me a clear view of the mech ship changing course and heading for the ashen planet. At this distance, I could only see a scar that marked the wreckage site. I watched the lizard ship head for the landing site, and it got smaller; my ability to discern details diminished as it went. We could magnify on the console, but Suncross would tell us if anything—
“Not wreckage!” came a desperate call from Suncross. “Live Elaszi! We are ensnared! Zeerakull, they attempt to take our ship!”
I ran back to the console to dial up the visual, and I got an eyeful of how the Elaszi ship had a lock on the lizards’ mech vessel. Suncross and crew were fighting against the tow, but as I watched, another line latched on with what looked like magnetic attachments.
“Can you get free on your own?”
“Doubtful,” another lizard replied.
Suncross added, “Fighting, Zeerakull, but they hit us with an EMP. All weapons are powered down. Engines not strong enough to—” The feed devolved into static, which meant he was too far for us to hear him or the blobs were jamming comms.
I turned my head upward. “Nadim, we can’t let them have our pals. Quick, what are our options? Do we have weapons that will reach the surface?” Beatriz was watching the screen with me, pressed close. I could feel her tension.