“The ghosts said it twice!” Shiloh felt an excited thrill as xie saw the recognition on her face. “The first one we saw, back in Meridian, then later when they showed us the lights!”
“I do have to wonder how they knew about that,” she said thoughtfully. “Can’t imagine anyone would have told them. That word symbolizes one of Parole’s greatest victories.”
“What does it mean?” xie asked, fairly vibrating with excitement. “It sounds really important.”
“Oh my, yes. It’s…” She thought for a moment, then gave a slight shake of her head. “Ask your uncle. It was his big day, mostly. Wouldn’t be fair to steal his thunder. It is a good word, though.” She glanced up at her wing, the sun beyond it. “Of course there is another meaning I prefer not to think about.”
“I’ll ask him! But isn’t that a good sign?” Shiloh wasn’t ready to let xir point go yet. “Talking about your best day ever doesn’t sound evil to me.”
“Perhaps not.” She seemed about to say something else but thought better of it. When she didn’t continue, Shiloh pressed on instead.
“Can I ask you something now, Cap—Aliyah?”
“Of course. Though I can’t guarantee you’ll get a good answer. There’s so much we don’t know.”
“Which do you think is more dangerous? Tartarus, or the ghosts that live in it?”
She paused in the middle of the sip she’d been about to take and slowly lowered her cup. “Putting me between a bit of a rock and a hard place, aren’t you?”
“Sorry—I just can’t stop thinking about them. Or wondering if they’re actually evil.”
“I believe evil exists,” Aliyah said softly. “But I will agree that it too often doesn’t look evil and it doesn’t hide under the bed. If you and your mother are right and the ghosts are trying to make some kind of deal, promising us help…well, men like Turret use lies and communication breakdowns to their advantage every day.”
“The SkEye officers who shot at it didn’t want us to communicate. And Lakshanya told us Major Turret approved of us lighting up the beacons.”
“She’s correct.” She folded her arms. “That…man is very eager to see this project done. It’s the first thing he’s said in years that isn’t monstrous. He’s been quite helpful, actually.”
“So he signed off on this plan,” Shiloh said in a conversational tone. “And now the ghosts are trying to talk to us.”
“I know what you’re thinking.” Her wings gave a brief twitch even if her face remained impassive. “But look at the facts. Tartarus is still extremely dangerous. No matter what the ghosts say, simple exposure to its toxins is often fatal. If we don’t stop that poison spread, thousands more die. Needless to say, that’s not an option. And with every beacon we upgrade, the toxins recede. Our path would seem clear.”
Shiloh weighed xir chances, then took another. “Even if it’s exactly what Turret wants?”
“Just keep your eyes and ears open.” For the first time, her expression hardened into a grim glower. “If the ghosts speak again, listen and report. But be very careful. The enemy of my enemy… is not necessarily my friend.”
“Then what is he?”
“A liar, at the very least. At most…” She took another sip, longer this time and more pensive. “I said this is the first thing he’s said or done in a long time that wasn’t monstrous? That’s because we’re dealing with a monster.” She set her cup down with a decisive clink. “But we work with what we know. And we know we need a new shield. Tomorrow Jay and I will see if we can’t dig one up before we have to get a move on.”
“Sounds good,” Shiloh said, remembering Annie’s desperation for one—and wishing xie had Aliyah’s apparent ability to simply close these troubling subjects and move on. “I’d really rather have one than not.”
“So would I. But we can’t always get what we want.” She glanced up at the sky where the sun was nearing the horizon. Overhead, the glittering stream of light continued into the distance, and Aliyah nodded upwards, giving Shiloh a brief smile. “They’re up there, aren’t they? Your mother’s flashing arrows. I can’t see them, of course, but that’s what I’ve always pictured.”
“Uh, it looks more like… kind of the Northern Lights?” Shiloh struggled to put the beautiful image into words, suddenly hit by the realization that not everyone could see what xie did. “And glitter. Like a sparkly comet trail and the Northern Lights, leading way off that way.”
“It sounds lovely,” Aliyah said, sounding a bit wistful. “I do wish I could see it firsthand. Might have to beg Jay for a peek through those goggles of his sometime. But that’s something, isn’t it? We’re still going the same direction Maureen’s leading. So we’re bound to meet up.”
Shiloh was quiet for a moment. Finally, xie said something xie hadn’t told anyone yet, not even in a dream. “I really thought she’d be here, waiting for me. My mom and my dad.”
“I’m sorry. Had to be a blow when they weren’t. But they’re out there, you can see that clear as day even if I can’t.” Aliyah sounded certain about most things she said, and this was no exception. “And the moment it’s safe, you’ll be back together.”
“Thanks.” Shiloh had to smile. Somehow, hearing this from her was even more reassuring than looking up and seeing the continuing lights. They definitely led somewhere but nothing helped as much as hearing xie wasn’t alone. “I’m trying to hold onto that but sometimes it’s nice to be reminded.”
“Well, I’m good at that. Now, you’d best get inside before the temperature drops along with the sun.” Her eyes narrowed slightly and Shiloh could tell she was running back over the ominous puzzle of Tartarus, Turret, and the ghosts. “Thank you for the talk, Shiloh. It was most… well, question-raising, not-much-answering.”
“Okay. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” Shiloh couldn’t help feeling a little deflated as xie turned to go. A minute ago, xie’d been so confident and excited that xie held the key to figuring out this whole mystery. Now xie wasn’t so sure. Or even sure they were doing the right thing at all anymore.
“Oh, it’s quite all right,” Aliyah said, quickly and easily. She didn’t seem to share any of Shiloh’s doubts but she wasn’t looking at xir anymore either. She’d turned back out to face the horizon. “We’ve run on much less before. Sometimes I think this crew does its finest work in the dark.”
“Are you coming in?” Shiloh was halfway down the stairs before xie realized she wasn’t following either.
“In a little while. Lots to think on. Coffee to finish. Go get warm.”
People said you felt Tartarus approach before you saw it. The ozone layer thinned the closer you got to its corrosive atmosphere, nights got darker and colder and days got brighter and hotter. Even inside the resupply outpost’s protective bubble, the change was noticeable.
But not in CyborJ’s makeshift command center. The single, round window was shuttered, edges taped over to keep out the sun’s glare, the only light a pale blue glow from a solid wall of computer screens. It was dim enough for Shiloh to take off xir sunglasses and take a good look at one of the strangest rooms xie’d been in on this strange trip. The cramped space was invaded by dismantled motherboards and huge piles of wires and tubing looped like lazy snakes. On all sides, active consoles and displays. And it was very cold. Icy air blasted through a vent in the ceiling and when Shiloh exhaled xie half-expected to see xir breath.
“Climate control’s important, ok,” Jay said a little distractedly as xie gave an audible shiver, not looking up from his current screen or stopping his consistent typing rhythm. “Gotta keep it frosty, even the best rigs run hot sometimes. And this Radiance junk is not the best, let me tell you. Mine is—was. Back in Parole. But keeping cool’s a lot easier out here, I will say. No random fire bursts. Yes AC.” He stopped then and turned to look up at Shiloh, seeming to fully register both xir presence and that not all humans enjoyed the same temperature extremes. He stepped on a pedal on the floor and the ceiling
vent hinged shut. “But I guess I can take a break if my nibling made the trip down here.”
“Thanks.” Shiloh gave a sigh of relief and unclenched xir shoulders as the freezing air blasting down on xir head and shoulders finally stopped. The cold lingered in the room but at least xir ears weren’t threatening to go numb anymore. Finally free from brain freeze, xie was able to process Jay’s entire last sentence and smiled. “Hey. ‘Nibling.’ It’s kind of amazing to hear that out loud.”
“Kinda amazing to say it.” Jay kicked off from the floor and rotated in his chair, sticking his feet up on a console opposite the one he’d been working on. “Lemme know if you figure out something better, huh? Hey, I’m saying ‘xie’ right, right?”
“More just like ‘zee,’ no ‘ex’ sound at the beginning.”
“Xie? Xir, xirself…”
“Yeah, that’s it, you got it.” As cold as the room had been a moment ago, xie couldn’t help but feel warm. CyborJ was one of Parole’s most vital, beloved, and borderline-legendary figures, responsible for rebuilding and maintaining the city’s communication infrastructure, free information, and foiling SkEye’s deadly operations through misdirection and technological brilliance. The fact that hardly anyone had ever seen his face or even knew if he was a single person, an entire infamous Syndicate, or a human being at all (nobody had ruled out the possibility of a sentient AI yet) only added to the mystique. But the man behind the machine, Jay, was incredibly easy to talk to. After seeing xir uncle in person for just this brief time, Shiloh could hardly believe xie’d been so nervous.
“You know what’s not amazing, though?” Jay’s expressive face screwed up into a scowl, and he swiveled back over to face his original screen, glaring at it like it was solely responsible for every bit of the world’s substantial suffering. “This freaking disk!”
“Um…problems?” Shiloh asked, not sure whether to smile, offer help, or back away slowly. Even in frustration, Jay’s entire existence was animated and energetic perpetual motion. It was almost entertaining or would be if he wasn’t clearly upset over something incredibly important. Especially if the kick he aimed at the wall console was any indication.
“Always! Just when I think I’m getting somewhere, no!” Jay glared, hands going fully back to the keyboard as he tried a few different tactics. “Another level, another layer, specifically written to drop-kick anything that even looks like Radiance out the door.”
“But we’re not Radiance, at least you’re not.” Xie shook xir head in confusion; the numbers in this equation made sense but the answer certainly didn’t.
“This ship is!” There was a metallic clank as he kicked the bulkhead this time. Shiloh glanced down. There were a few more dents in it at foot level xie hadn’t noticed before. “And all I have to work with are the ship’s computers! And the disk sees Radiance Technology trying to crack it open, so it thinks it fell into enemy hands, it locks down even tighter!”
“Are you saying you can’t open this disk?” Without quite knowing why, Shiloh dropped xir voice and moved in closer as xir heart began to pound. This entire time, Jay opening Maureen’s encoded disk with its lifesaving information had been such a given, Shiloh hadn’t even considered the alternative. Now xie did and the thought made xir insides shrivel.
“No—maybe—I don’t know! Do not tell anyone I said that! I have a reputation here. Damn!” Jay arched his back, dragging his hands down his face. “I don’t know what to do here. I don’t know. Freaking Radiance machines, can’t live with ‘em, can’t take a sledgehammer after ‘em!”
“Should I go?” Shiloh glanced toward the door, wondering if now would be a good time to retreat while xir uncle blew off some steam alone.
“No, I’m sorry.” Jay sighed, rubbing his closed eyes and waving in a ‘have a seat’ gesture, except that he had the only chair in the room. Shiloh leaned against the curving metal wall instead and waited. Eventually, after mumbling under his breath for several seconds, Jay looked up. He didn’t look aggravated anymore, just exhausted. “Your mom did the right thing. The smart thing. She designed it so nobody nasty would get a look at what’s on this thing—and so that I’m, get this, I’m the only one who should be able to open it.” He gave a faint smile but it had none of his usual confidence or wry humor. “And if I was back in Parole, with my own setup, my systems, my cat—I’d have this thing open before it knew what was happening! But I’m not…”
“Probably a really dorky question, you totally don’t have to answer,” Shiloh started tentatively. Xie couldn’t believe there was much Jay hadn’t thought of but xie couldn’t ignore the impulse to ask, find out more, help if possible, and, failing that, somehow at least make him feel a little better. “But do you think you could once we get to Parole? Or is…”
“No, I don’t know if my stuff’s still there.” Shiloh immediately regretted asking the question that prompted the flat, abrupt answer. “I don’t know if anything’s there anymore. The bottom dropped out, we grabbed what essentials we could, and ran. Not like we weren’t prepared, not like I didn’t have a million backup plans, because come on, of course I did.” His shoulders dropped another inch or two. “But you ever had every single backup plan fail at once? It’s… a hell of a thing.”
“I’m so sorry,” Shiloh said, fumbling for words and knowing as soon as those were out that they meant essentially nothing. Not after someone had been through something like that, xie’d found that out multiple times on this ride. There was some pain that words couldn’t express and words couldn’t really heal it either. But it would still be nice to find ones that helped even a little.
“It’s all right,” Jay said, looking up at Shiloh with a much different smile than the pained, sardonic one he’d had a minute ago. Fatigued, but real. Starting to look like himself again. Amazingly, Shiloh had the feeling that maybe xir nothing-words hadn’t been nothing after all. “I’m still gonna beat this. I can do anything I set my mind to.” He slowly started nodding as if confirming it beyond a doubt. “Especially if it involves a keyboard and some stubborn code. But I don’t have much to work with, so it’s just gonna take me a while. Damn, I wish Seven was here.”
“Seven?”
Jay nodded to a picture Shiloh hadn’t noticed before beside one of his several screens. In it, a fluffy cat sprawled on its back across a keyboard, exposing a furry belly and looking up at the camera. It looked like a Himalayan. It also didn’t look entirely real. Patches of fur had worn off the pointed ears and fuzzy sides, revealing complex metal inner workings. The cat’s eyes looked like Toto-Dandy’s as well, intricate gyroscopic spheres that shone a bright green.
“Best little techno-helper in the world,” Jay said, sounding fond but looking far from happy. “She’d have this thing open so fast. Pretty sure she thinks encrypted files are mice or some kind of treat, she goes after ‘em even when I don’t want her to. Maybe a box.”
“Is that… a real cat?” Shiloh couldn’t stop staring at the half-robotic-looking animal.
“Of course she’s real!” Jay sounded mildly indignant, then seemed to realize what Shiloh was asking. “I mean, no, she’s not organic or anything. Danae made her—she made Dandy too, and lots of other cool stuff.”
“I was wondering that.” Shiloh smiled, happy to have been right. Xie was catching on. “Looks kind of like Stefanos’s arm and eyes.”
“That’s cause they all come from the same place. Danae can turn just about anything metal into a…” He stopped, looking a bit confused. “Well, I don’t really know how ‘alive’ her stuff is, we think it’s an AI thing. But most of it’s nowhere near as complex as Seven. She’s alive, that’s for sure.”
“Is she…” Shiloh stopped, remembering the answer to xir own unspoken question. “She’s back in Parole, isn’t she?”
“Yeah.” Jay’s expression immediately darkened. “She was… busy. I dunno where exactly, but too far away to catch up to us before we had to leave.”
“I’m sorry.” Shiloh di
dn’t know what else to say. Nothing would make it hurt less, xie knew that well enough every time xie thought about xir parents. It wasn’t the same but the worry and heartache were.
“It’s fine,” Jay said, though it clearly wasn’t. “She’s kind of a therapy animal too. Scans your vitals, goes for help if you get hurt, purrs you right out of panic attacks—literally, she can purr on 12 different frequencies depending on your distress.”
“She sounds amazing,” Shiloh said and meant it. “I really hope you find her again.”
“Or she finds me. She’s programmed to prioritize human survival, everything else comes second. So, she understands why I’m not there. I hope.” Jay slumped a little in his chair. “But that won’t stop her from looking.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Never mind, enough sad-sackery. I don’t have Seven, or any of my own stuff, and that’s gonna make it harder to open this disk. I’ll get it eventually, I’m just gonna complain a lot while I do it.”
“Well, maybe you don’t have to do it alone.” A memory rose to the surface of Shiloh’s mind, long buried under all the chaotic events between then and now. “Mom said you’d need a little help from a friend.”
Jay tossed xir a half-skeptical, half-pitying look. “Nobody on this ship knows how to pick virtual locks better than me, they’d get in the way. Not a brag, just a fact.”
Xie shrugged. “I dunno, that’s just what she said. And that you’d know what that meant.”
“Well, we lost contact with a lot of people in the collapse. Kind of running low on friends at the moment.” His eyes slid away and past Shiloh and xie turned to look too. The one of Seven the cat wasn’t the only photo Jay had in his room. The entire opposite wall was full of them.
Most were people Shiloh didn’t recognize, but there were two xie certainly did. In a small but dense cluster, several younger versions—ten years or more—of Maureen, Garrett, and Shiloh’s own round, happy baby face, smiled out at them. Shiloh actually recognized a couple, and wondered if the black ‘Bad Reputation’ shirt xir tiny baby self had slept in was the same one Jay’d worn when they’d met just a couple days ago. Xie hadn’t seen or thought about any of these in years. Now xie had to wonder if xir parents did. Jay obviously had, every day.
The Lifeline Signal Page 21