by T. M. Catron
“Mina! Get up!” Doyle called.
Someone grabbed her arms and hauled her up onto dry sand. She looked up to see Nick standing over her, his eyes shining with something almost like respect. Mina stood slowly, her breath still trying to catch up to her heartbeat.
The aether sat on top of the water, a smoky mask of nothingness blacking out the night. It spiraled upward, tendrils reaching for the sky in what resembled an upside-down tornado. Doyle and Li stood beside it in the surf.
Doyle summoned the Nomad, and it flew onto the beach. All four of them climbed the ladder into the hold. They were airborne before the door closed, the aether following the ship like it was being dragged.
Wet clothes clinging to her, Mina shivered in the cold air of the ship. When she moved toward the stair, wet sand fell off her body in clumps. Doyle put an arm around her, and they climbed the narrow stair together.
“Dar Ceylin,” Li said.
Doyle turned.
“The Condarri… It’s small enough to fit on the Nomad.”
“So?”
“So maybe it won’t survive the trip to the Factory.”
Doyle stepped down one stair. “Do you know how many times the aether whisked me up onto a waiting ship, knowing I wouldn’t have oxygen and exposing me to the radiation of space?”
“It won’t be any good to us dead, sir.”
“No, it won’t,” he conceded. Then he commanded the hatch open.
The aether crept into the hold like a smoky octopus. First, its tentacles reached up the sides of the walls, and then a writhing black bulge came through the door. The room darkened.
Doyle frowned at Li. “Stand guard.”
“Yes, Dar Ceylin,” he said.
Doyle led Mina back up the stairs.
In the open bunk room at the top, Alvarez and Nelson jumped up, ready to hear the news.
Doyle let go of Mina and walked toward the corridor. Nelson looked like he was going to ask a question, but Doyle’s scowl warned him off.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Mina said to Doyle, once again ignoring the others. “You don’t get to be angry with me.”
She followed him down the corridor into the captain’s berth where he went into the bathroom for a towel.
He handed it to her. “I’m not angry.”
Mina brought herself up short. “You’re not?”
“No, I’m appalled,” he hissed, glaring at her. “And shocked. And, and…” He took a deep, steadying breath. His gaze softened a little. “And impressed.”
“Impressed,” Mina repeated, not sure if she believed him.
He smiled. “If you hadn’t acted exactly as you did, I wouldn’t have been able to get to you in time. How’d you know the Condarri can’t swim?”
“I didn’t know. And there were two of them.”
“I only found one.”
“Well, I definitely saw two. And at least one of them was in the water with me.” Mina finally took the towel from him and began drying her hair. Sand flew out of it onto the dark floor.
“You said something on the beach,” Doyle said. He was looking at her in a way that made her heart race and slow down again all at the same time.
“I didn’t say much of anything. I was trying to delay my death.”
“You said you cared for me. Then you corrected yourself and said it was more than that.”
Mina flushed. “I didn’t.”
Had she said all that through the adarre? She’d only been thinking it.
Doyle smirked. “Yes, you did.”
He pulled her close and reached up to put a hand in her hair. Her heart stopped trying to decide whether to be fast or slow—it just quit working altogether.
“I have sand all over me.”
“I like it,” he said, then, “Will you forgive me?”
“I’m not sure you even care about forgiveness.”
“I care about yours.”
Mina disentangled herself from him and made to leave. Even after her near miss, she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook. At the door, she turned. “I believe you mean that. And I meant what I said too. I’m just not sure it’s enough.”
“Make no mistake,” Cummings said. “If I didn’t think you could help us, I would have left you in the mine to rot. That’s what the others want. We’ll call this a probation period.”
“And what do I have to do to prove myself?” Calla asked. She flexed her hand. Since being freed, she had splinted her broken arm again. Already, she felt the bones knitting back together. In a few days, it would be as good as new.
“I’ll leave that up to you. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
They passed through the oldest parts of the mine until they reached a concrete tunnel leading to a hole in the Earth. It smelled of mold and damp concrete.
“You’ve been busy,” Calla said. “These passages were sealed off when Condar attacked the military camp.”
“We worked day and night to open it back up. Then Condar showed up, and we had to hide in the tunnels.”
“Aren’t they in there now?”
“They move in and out.”
Cummings stopped in front of the hole and peered in.
Calla remembered the last time she was in the bunker. She had gone in after Doyle who was supposed to report to the Condarri. He hadn’t been in there, and she’d wondered then why she had failed to find him.
“What I want to know,” Calla said, “is how Doyle read the adarria inside?”
“They showed him.”
“How can they do that?”
Cummings stared at her. “Haven’t you felt it since you betrayed Condar?”
Calla shifted on her feet. She didn’t like to think of her betrayal to Condar. As the heat of the moment cooled, her decision seemed more like madness. She reminded herself that she could rectify it at any time, turn herself over to her masters. For some reason the knowledge made her feel better.
Cummings stepped down into the Condarri tunnel, and Calla followed. She’d never spent any real time inside it, and now that she felt at ease to examine it, the puzzle grew deeper. The stone inside reminded Calla of the Factory and of Condar itself.
“How did Condar get this done? It’s nothing like our other bunkers.”
Cummings turned to the right, passing a sign that read “ARCHIE.”
“And what about the humans?” Calla continued. “They’ve been in here. How did they find it?”
“I don’t know how or when Condar built this bunker, but miners found it in 1956.”
“And what did they do with it then?”
“Back then, their technology was even more limited than it is now. But they reported the bunker to the US Government. It sent people out to investigate from a short-lived division called ARCHIE. A man named Harvey O’Brien realized he had something strange and closed up the mine, even relocated the entire community. But then funding got tied up in Congress, and he was pulled off the case.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Before the invasion, I was stationed at the Department of Defense. I found some old documents and started doing my own research.”
They had reached the door to the large chamber. Calla stopped to look at Cummings.
“You sent Halston out here.”
He shook his head. “Calla, I sent all of them out here—the Army, Halston, that small robotics team.”
Calla body grew cold with fury. “It was you.”
All this time, she’d thought Halston had started the rebellion. But it was Cummings.
Cummings nodded and eyed her carefully. They had taken away all her weapons, including her belt and boots. But even with her bare hands, Calla was lethal.
“Why?” she choked out.
“Why did you go rogue, Calla?” he whispered.
“I told you.”
“Your reason is the same as mine. Only I realized a lot earlier than you that I didn’t want to die. I knew I couldn’t stop the invasion. I also figured
Condar would eventually get rid of its creations. Both the invasion and the annihilation of the hybrids was inevitable. Eventually, they would kill all the loyals too.
“But when I found out about this bunker, I started checking. Condar hadn’t listed it as one for hybrid use. I couldn’t come here to look for myself. I decided to put my own plan in place, one that made sure I had eyes on the ground when the invasion happened. I hired Interface Labs on pretense. Of course, my human supervisor thought it was a great idea and pushed me to include more people. I knew that when the time came, I could get some of them here and plant a couple of hybrids with them. It was never about the humans, of course. They were just cover to get Halston here.”
“Halston was traitor all along?”
“No, I had to gamble on that. As far as I knew, I was the only rogue. And I could still be traced. But it worked out. I think you know what happened to Halston once he arrived.”
“I only know what he showed me.”
Cummings gestured to the room. Calla frowned in confusion. She’d been here before. What else was there to see?
“Go on, Calla.”
Watching him for signs of trickery, Calla stepped into the room. She backed away from Cummings before looking around. But instead of the black and purple shadows she expected to see with her enhanced vision, she saw stars. Millions of them, floating in the air.
“What—”
She followed them as they grew denser in the center of the room, to where they gathered in a sweeping arc that met another one like it. A spiral galaxy.
“A few days ago,” Cummings said, “the galaxy was above us. Now, it’s practically in the room.”
“But what is it? It’s not a real galaxy. It must be a hologram.”
“You ever seen a hologram like that?”
“Condar has many types of holograms. We’re only allowed to use one. And they have technology they haven’t shown the hybrids.”
“True.”
“But you don’t think so.”
“It’s the real thing—the Milky Way. Our galaxy.”
“How do you know?”
“If we stay here long enough, you’ll find out.”
“Don’t play games with me, Cummings.”
“Oh, I’m not. I want you to see it so you can form your own conclusions. They’ve been gone a day or so. Should be back any minute.”
“Then we need to leave!”
“Trust me, you’ll want to see this.”
Calla had no intention of believing Cummings. “Did you just bring me here to turn me in?”
He laughed. “No, I don’t want to die either, remember?”
“So you say.”
“You don’t trust me. That’s okay. But you’ll want to see this.”
They waited in silence a while. Cummings must be going insane. If the Condarri were on their way here, why would they wait in plain sight?
“What does this all mean?” she asked after a while. He had walked over to lean against the wall on the opposite side of the door.
“Have you ever been inside the Factory Core?” he asked.
Calla looked at him sharply. Why would he ask that?
But his question seemed rhetorical because he didn’t wait for her answer. “I have. And once I finally got here after the invasion, I knew there was a connection.”
After a second of deliberation, Calla decided to gamble.
“I have been there,” she said, careful to keep her voice even.
Cummings raised an eyebrow. “When?”
“Recently. And I too noticed the similarities.”
“Except for the adarria.”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to go back. It’s been years.”
“You can’t go back. The aether is loose.”
Cummings stepped away from the wall.
“Is it.” His voice had turned hard. “When did you say you were there last?”
Calla stiffened and turned to face Cummings head on. “You were right about Condar wanting them all dead. We did it—Doyle and I went to the Factory and destroyed the loyal hybrids. We set the aether free.”
Cummings clenched a fist. “Of all the—why Calla?”
“It’s what Condar wanted!”
He began to pace up and down in front of the door like a caged animal. “No more hybrids,” he whispered. Then, “What are we going to do? How will we defeat Condar now?”
“You’re a fool! Condar can’t be defeated! But Doyle can. And we need to make sure that when he comes for us, we’re ready.”
“You and your petty grievances!”
“Betrayal is not a petty grievance! I told you what he is now. He’ll destroy all of us!”
“That’s not like him, and you know it. The commander was always fair. Brutal, but fair. What purpose would he have in coming after us? We’re the only hybrids left. Then he would have no hope of allies.”
“He has the humans.”
Cummings scoffed. “What would he do with those?”
Calla paused. She hadn’t considered that question. What would Doyle do with the humans? He was using that woman for something, but she’d assumed it was as a plaything. Or a decoy—as cover.
“Where did you say Doyle went?” Cummings asked.
“I don’t know where he went. He got on the Nomad with five humans and then disappeared.”
“Five humans. Calla—he can control the aether.”
“Yes.”
But she didn’t need Cummings to finish his thought. The Factory was empty. He had humans. He had the labs. He had control of the aether.
“He’s making more hybrids,” she said grimly. “And these will be loyal to him and only him.”
“Can he do that? What about the adarria?”
“Did he find a way to trick them?”
“Or maybe he’s not making more hybrids. Maybe he knows more about the connection to the Factory and this bunker, and he needed to go back. Either way, I bet that’s where he is. Will Condar look for him there?”
“I don’t know. But we can’t report it without giving ourselves away. I thought Halston knew what the connection was.”
“He never told me. And thanks to you, we’ll never know.”
Calla let the rebuke slide. Although she’d gone rogue herself, she was still extremely proud of much of her service to Condar. Only recently had she felt inadequate. She sighed and looked back at the galaxy. It was unsettling, like her feet had lifted off the floor and she was floating toward it like some goddess, growing as big as the galaxy itself.
“Have you ever been to the Core on Condar?” she asked.
“No. You?”
Calla shook her head. “We weren’t likely to get access when we were allowed there. Now—”
Cummings nodded and resumed his brooding on the wall.
“Which means Doyle can’t get access either.”
But if Calla knew anything about Doyle, it was that he would find a way to get what he wanted. She grew more uneasy, feeling as though she’d been left behind while he went on another mission. He was on a mission, one of his own. And she would breathe easier if she knew his intentions.
Suddenly the temperature in the room dropped. Calla shivered. Cummings stepped away from the wall and closer to the door. Still mindful this could all be a trap, Calla moved that direction too, ready to run as soon as necessary. But Cummings wasn’t watching her. He was looking at the galaxy.
It was shifting. The mass of stars blurred around the edges, like Calla was viewing it through a concave lens. Then a dazzling, bright hole opened in the middle. It stretched and stretched until it blocked out everything else in the room. Calla closed her eyes to keep from being blinded, but Cummings said,
Watch. Prepare to run.
Calla opened her eyes again. Tears streamed down her face from looking into the light.
And then it was there.
A massive ship, its nose sticking down into the silo.
While they watched, t
he galaxy stopped spinning, and the light grew more bearable.
Then the Condarri arrived. First in twos, then threes, then tens and twenties, disembarking from the hold in the belly of the ship. She turned to see Cummings’ reaction, but he was already running through the door.
Calla glanced back once, then turned and ran as fast as she could after him.
Chapter Eight
The young Glyph was terrified. Or angry, Lincoln couldn’t tell which. Its screeches sounded like stone grating on stone.
And it wouldn’t stop.
The creature thrashed around in its round cage in the detention center, beating on the transparent walls until its arms and face oozed silver blood.
The others stood around the cage. Nick, Li, and Grace were there too. Grace stood beside Lincoln, who had his arm around her shoulder for support.
Despite orders, Lincoln had insisted on going to see the others when they got back. Since Doyle had returned, Grace gave in to his whining. Lincoln had a nagging feeling that she’d been ordered to keep him happy. He’d never been so glad to see Alvarez although she refused to tell him why she’d changed her mind.
Although he was glad to see everyone back unharmed, Lincoln was tired of being babysat. Since the invasion, he’d had someone telling him what to do and where to go. He longed for normalcy, to decide on his own where to eat, when to sleep, and when to just use the frickin bathroom.
Then he almost laughed aloud. Most of humanity was dead. He wasn’t. And he was having a pity party about not being able to make all his own decisions.
He pushed aside his thoughts and looked at the others.
All three of the hybrids had looks of terror on their faces. Doyle stood behind them. Lincoln had trouble reading his face.
The wall shuddered as the Glyph threw all of its weight against it.
“Can it get out?” Carter asked.
“No,” Doyle said.
“Are we sure?” Nelson asked.
He walked around the wall, inspecting it at the bottom. As he walked around the other side, he caught the Glyph’s attention. It stopped hammering on the glass and watched Nelson walk to the other side.
“Look at that,” Lincoln said in awe. “Why do you think it’s following him?”