by Rachel Caine
“Sounds like you’re saying she’s being tortured, physically and mentally.”
“It could be interpreted as such,” EMITU said cheerfully.
“Well, try to ease the worst of it. Maybe she’ll stabilize. If she could still think well enough to communicate in Morse code under these circumstances, then the Chao-Xing we know and love is still alive and kicking. Hell, I don’t even know Morse code.”
“You should learn,” the bot said. “In case you’re ever held hostage in your own body and can no longer speak or write.”
Was that why she’d wrecked up the place? Maybe she wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, just looking for a way to communicate. And damn if she didn’t find it.
That’s our Chao-Xing. Whatever Suncross said about poisoned wells, I wasn’t giving up on her yet.
“Shit, shit, shit!” It wasn’t like Bea to cuss, but she was doing it in all the languages she knew, in a fluid, angry flood of syllables. I rushed toward Ops, already braced for bad news, but it was worse than I could have imagined. She turned toward me with wide, terrified eyes. “Zara, he’s gone.”
“Who? Marko?”
“Lifekiller.”
“You mean he’s awake . . . and he already took off?” That wasn’t the worst news possible. I was braced to hear he’d already drained another settlement dry and that I had to answer for thousands more lives.
“It’s more like, we’ve been tricked,” she said softly. “You know my plan to bait the Phage with the emitters? Make them think there were a lot of Leviathan nearby?”
“What about it?”
“He’s not here. He was never here. We followed the Phage thinking it would lead us to him, but it seems like they’re playing bait, leading us away from him.”
Now I was cursing, not as colorfully, but I dropped a few choice Zone expletives. “We fell for it? I can’t believe the bastard’s this smart. You think he doubled back to Greenheld?”
Lifekiller had a serious jones for revenge against the Abyin Dommas, so it was possible. Bea was scanning frantically, shaking her head. “I’m not sure.”
“Conference in Yusuf and Starcurrent. Get Suncross too. Let’s see if we can expand our range. Nadim?”
“I’m here, Zara.” Worried as hell too, by the sound of it.
Why did we always have multiple fires to put out? First, it was Lifekiller and Derry/Deluca, and now it was Lifekiller and Chao-Xyll. Peace and quiet wasn’t something I used to see in my future, but I was starting to think it would be nice. There was such a thing as too much adventure, when the constant adrenaline wore you out and the fear-bile in your stomach ate the lining, giving you an ulcer. I didn’t think I had one yet, but maybe I was on the way.
“Understood.”
A split screen appeared on the console, as Bea had commed in both ships. Suncross didn’t wait for me to speak. “Did you—”
“It’s not about that,” I cut in hastily. The last thing I needed was for this damn lizard to let slip that I’d tapped him as our last resort for dealing with C-X. Marko would lose his damn mind. I was only seconds from shaking to pieces myself.
“We were baited,” Bea said then.
She quickly explained what had happened to the others. Yusuf started cussing, and it was kind of nice to see him lose his cool too. The man was beyond the numb stage of grief. I liked anger on him better.
“The energy signature we mistook for the god-king is a trap he left for us.” Yusuf slammed a fist into his palm. “He even burned enough energy to make it radiate correctly.”
“Whatever he’s doing,” I said, “he doesn’t want us to interfere.”
Marko paced, running a hand through already shaggy hair. “I have the worst feeling about this. Anyone else?”
“Has been long since I had a good feeling,” said Starcurrent. I didn’t think it was the translation matrix making zim sound doleful.
“Suncross?” I prompted.
The lizard was silent, and that was never a good sign. He waved with four clawed hands and huddled up, communicating with his crew so silently that our network couldn’t pick up the sounds. Maybe the Bruqvisz had an idea? I could hope.
“Is definitely not Greenheld,” Suncross finally said, coming back to face the screen. “Remember, our brethren are patrolling, and they would have sent word about facing such an impossible foe.”
“They’d have gotten a message off, even if they were dying?” I guessed.
Suncross spread his palms. “Yes. Best way to ensure your story is told. Broadcast circumstances likely to end in glorious death. Even if this ship was too far, I would have heard of this from others.”
Right, the lizards had a great communications system, the one that let Bacia harass us and send Jellies to kill us, even while they were fleeing from the Phage.
Okay, think, Zara.
Joining Marko, I started pacing too, though I didn’t mess with my hair. We passed each other in opposite directions as I thought aloud. “We can tick Greenheld off the list. Starcurrent, what’s the next most populated world? I mean, the planet with the highest concentration of Abyin Dommas?”
“Haelara.” Starcurrent and Suncross spoke at the same time.
It didn’t translate as a compound word, unlike other Abyin Dommas homes. “Where is it? How many light-years from here?”
“It’s really far,” Nadim said. “If that’s where the god-king is headed, he’s delayed us long enough. Even at top speed, it would take me nearly a week.”
“They’ll all be dead before we get there,” Bea whispered.
I shivered, trying to control my reaction. Failing. All that fear—I imagined how Starcurrent must be feeling. Ze must wish we’d let zim die in vacuum so ze wouldn’t have to be a part of this.
“How many?” I asked.
“Ten million of my people,” Starcurrent answered. “More Bruqvisz. Some Fellkin.”
“Is there any way to get word? To warn them?” I pointed at Suncross. “Can you use your awesome telemetry or whatever it’s called? If there are more than ten million Bruqvisz on Haelara, let them know what might be coming.”
“Could create panic,” he said heavily. “Destabilize economy if many attempt to flee. Also possible they will dismiss my warning as mischief.”
“You have to try! We should probably send alerts to any likely targets. They’ll elevate their defenses as they can and keep watch for Lifekiller.”
“Most cannot sing the shield,” Starcurrent said. “Fear will only make the end more painful. Better to see death coming or better to die smiling?”
Yeah, I wasn’t here to talk philosophy. “Concrete solutions only! Nobody is on this mission to discuss dying.”
Suncross had to say, “Only glorious death in battle!”
Damn lizards.
Marko finally spoke after long moments of silent pacing. “I think Zara’s right. We have to put the word out. We’ve been trying to do this by ourselves and we’re not . . . at this point, I think saying we’ve failed to contain the problem is a fact. All we’ve done is waste time and let the god-king run circles around us.”
Glaring at him, Bea planted her hands on her hips. “While he’s worried about us, he’s not devouring planets. That’s something. Even if we haven’t destroyed him yet, we’re saving lives, and I don’t count that as failure.”
“Yes.” Yusuf was nodding. “Sometimes it’s enough not to lose. It’s enough to survive to regroup and try again, especially when you consider the might of our opponent.”
Suncross growled, a sound I interpreted as blah blah, human squabbling. “Am sending mass warning or not?”
Too bad there was no superhero squad we could call to deal with the ancient god we’d inadvertently raised. On some level, I realized we were the closest the universe had. I stopped fidgeting and squared my shoulders. With C-X out of the action, someone had to step up. I wanted it to be someone else, anyone really, but everyone was looking at me, listening to me, for some damn reason. I guessed that
meant I was in charge.
Just another day, no problem, I can handle this.
“Send the message,” I said.
Maybe nobody would send help. Maybe they wouldn’t even believe word that came across the wire from some random merc ship. If that was the case, we’d done the best we could. Hopefully people would believe the Bruqvisz because they were known bards, famous for putting true stories out there. Like Yusuf and Bea said, sometimes when you couldn’t win, not losing or minimizing losses was enough.
“Done,” said Suncross. “The mockery will begin soon. Beings like Lifekiller are the stuff of stories to young ones, not something to be properly feared. But we will try.”
Poor lizard. To people who’d never seen—or maybe even heard of—a being like Lifekiller, Suncross would probably acquire a reputation for spreading bullshit. I imagined it like the conspiracy theorists on Earth who posted on the internet about the “real” purpose of the Leviathan. But hell, even they were right; the live ships just weren’t hiding what the fanatics thought they were.
I didn’t bother apologizing. “Next order of business. Bea, let’s repurpose those emitters. We can’t trick Lifekiller anymore, but we might be able to use them to get a better range on our scans. We have to find that bastard. Right away.”
“Understood. I’ll get on the necessary modifications, Z.”
“Nadim, if we stay close to Typhon, is there a way to link our ship systems? I feel like it makes sense that would increase our range as well.”
“Yes, Zara. We have not done this before because Typhon was keeping secrets, but I think that’s not the case anymore. Yusuf?” Nadim checked with the Honor currently privy to Typhon’s inner workings.
He nodded. “Typhon is amenable. He says there’s nothing in his databases that he needs to hide.”
Hell has frozen. Typhon just volunteered to throw open his gates and is letting us guard the battlements with him. It was about damn time; any longer and there would have been nothing left to save. I locked those bad thoughts away like a prisoner that could never be permitted to escape. My mom believed in the power of positivity—that if you imagined good things, they would come to you, but that had always sounded like nonsense to me. Still, I wouldn’t put terrible thoughts out in the universe either.
We had a plan at least, and we were moving forward. I should probably wallow a little more in the way the god-king straight up fooled us, but that wasn’t my style. In the Zone, I’d gotten my ass kicked now and then. Never did any good to linger on the bruises. Back then I just had to keep moving. Same held true in the black too.
“You’re inspiring them,” Nadim said, so softly that I knew the words were just for me.
“I . . . what? No.”
“It’s true. Now everyone has a purpose again. They believe we can do this because you won’t let anyone imagine another outcome.”
“The power of positive thinking,” I sang out, and oh my God, I was quoting my mother. What would come next, the end times? I sobered up fast when I realized how true that was, considering the monster we were up against.
“Uplink complete!” Bea said.
“Granting all systems access,” Yusuf added.
That had to mean we were networked with Typhon. Wonder if the Honors program saw that coming.
Starcurrent was scanning on zis end, and Suncross was waiting with his boys. Suddenly the Abyin Dommas said, “Spotted something!”
A dot appeared on our screens as ze shared the info with Bea. She staggered so fast that I had to catch her, hold her up, and Marko ran to her other side. Because of her reaction, I was worried about her, not focused on the console.
She shoved me away, not roughly, but there was real desperation in her face. Terror unlike anything I’d seen from Bea before put unsteadiness in her voice, like tears barely choked back. “Zara . . . look.”
With effort, I scrutinized the constellations, the familiar images on screen. “Oh shit. That’s the Sol system. Lifekiller’s headed for Earth!”
“More,” Yusuf said grimly. “The Phage swarm he used as a decoy. They know we’re onto them. They’re coming back for us.”
FROM EARTH CENTRAL COMMAND RECORDS, COLLECTED IN A MASS INFOTRADE WITH THE BRUQVISZ SEVENTY-NINE YEARS AFTER RECORDED EVENTS
EARTH COMMAND CIC BULLETIN TO REMOTE STATIONS LUNA COLONY MARS COLONY ROMA JUPITER ORBIT SATURN OUTPOST
An unknown presence of alien origin has been detected at the limits of our sensor array and appears inbound to our solar system. We have no reason to believe this is composed of Leviathan; there has been no communication in advance of this arrival.
As a precaution we are now instituting Condition Unknown Alert. Check and ready all planetary defenses, shields, and weapons. Outposts prepare to evacuate to safe shelters and engage autonomous defenses.
We have sent inquiries out to any Leviathan in range to explain this unplanned expeditionary force.
Do not alert your citizens until official notifications are released.
Remain calm.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lost Ground
WE WERE SITTING targets and had two vulnerable Leviathan that would trigger the Phage’s hunger. And my home planet was going to be attacked. Our home planet. Mine, Bea’s, Yusuf’s, Marko’s, Chao-Xing’s. There was no way Earth was ready to repel any kind of alien invader, much less the monstrous power and hunger of the Phage. And Lifekiller could crush whatever defenses they could mount with a random blast.
I didn’t want to care. I didn’t think I would care, because after all I’d run away from everything there as fast as I could. First to the Zone, where I could live without rules and restrictions; then, when I had the shot, out here to space, to Nadim, to a life completely free from borders and people wanting me to comply.
But even though I had nobody I really loved back there on Earth, it was in my blood and bones. Earth had made me. It was my cradle and my history, and I had to feel that, however far away I ran. My ancestors had stories I didn’t know and had never really cared to learn, and in this moment, I hated that I didn’t know those stories when they were in danger of disappearing. The Bruqvisz were right: stories survived after we were gone. And I couldn’t let mine burn up the way millions had already for his selfish need to destroy anything in his way.
This move felt personal, like he was punishing us for turning him back at Greenheld. If pesky humans wouldn’t let him take out the Abyin Dommas, then he’d destroy us first. And we couldn’t sing him away like they had. This was too damn big for me to carry. While Earth might not shelter my loved ones, Mars did. And if Lifekiller took a notion to wipe us out, for a being like him, it was nothing to wreck the domes, nothing to obliterate Luna Colony. I’d seen how fast it could happen, and soon we might—
I took a breath. Gave myself a mental shaking. Snap out of it. Only a few seconds had gone by, but I had to get back in the moment. Phage were coming, and they weren’t going to wait on my personal damn crisis.
“How far?” I asked Yusuf, since Bea was busy. He consulted his screens, and probably Typhon.
“We’d almost caught up to them before they turned,” he said. “So maybe half an hour, tops. Not a lot of time, Zara. What’s our plan?”
“Same as before. Kill as many as we can, however we can.” My hands flew over the controls, looking for whatever was around us we could use. And I found it. “Okay, we’re going here—” I flashed the coordinates to him with a quick sweep of my fingers across the pad. “How much gravity can Typhon resist?”
“Oh shit,” he said, when he realized what I meant. “I don’t know. Typhon?”
“This is acceptable,” Typhon said, deep rumble of a voice that came over the speakers. “Nadim will not be able to tolerate as much. Be careful. If you drift too close . . .”
“That’s the idea,” I told him. “We skim the edges and try to lure the Phage after us. With any luck they’ll be so focused on us that at least some of them will get caught in the gravity well.”
Typhon understood what I was talking about, and so did Nadim an instant later. “You mean for me to swim on the outer edges of the darkness?”
“Yep,” I said.
What he referred to as “the darkness” was a black hole. A small one, not that it really mattered; it was new and hungry, and it was starting to shred the star nearest to it. A continuously moving energy stream was being pulled loose from the star’s superheated surface and spiraling out toward the supergravity well. Slow-motion destruction. Science fiction said it could send you somewhere else, and so did some big brains in science, but it didn’t seem like a trip I was that eager to take since the more likely alternative was being crushed to random atoms at the bottom of a hole so deep it ripped space itself.
“Zara, it’s dangerous,” Nadim said earnestly.
“I know, sweetheart. But we don’t have a lot of options. Our drones are gone, and we can only take so many of these things with weapons and physical attacks. There are millions of them. They’ll swarm you and Typhon and sting you to death. We can’t risk that happening. Better to risk this.”
I felt his fear. Nadim wasn’t often afraid; space was his natural home, same as air was to me. But even the Leviathan feared getting caught in the unbreakable hold of a black hole. “I’ve never done this,” he said. “If I miscalculate and go too far . . .”
“I know,” I answered. “But it’s a risk we need to take. Together.” What I wasn’t telling him was that for me it was also a last resort; if the Phage succeeded in burrowing into Nadim, if it was all a lost cause here . . . at least we could plunge into that black hole and end things. I didn’t know if that would be a quick death or a very, very slow one, but I couldn’t let Nadim become one of those vile zombie ships, piloted by the Phage and pregnant with squirming masses of them, ready to explode out and take another Leviathan. I wasn’t going to tell him any of that, though I thought he’d agree with me. This was my responsibility.
Nadim didn’t argue the point. We didn’t have time. I checked the counter that Yusuf had started running. “Hey, Bea? We got proximity mines in inventory? I know we used some earlier . . .”