by T. M. Catron
Doyle fished some out of his pack and passed it to Mina. The blankets were generous. Alice’s would trail behind her when she walked. Attempting to keep Alice covered at the same time, Mina found the center of the blanket and cut a hole in it with Doyle’s knife. She slid the blanket over Alice’s head like a poncho. Then she used pieces of rope to tie it around her waist.
As she finished, Doyle and Morse did the same with Morse’s blanket.
“We look like ragamuffins,” Alice said. Hers brushed the floor.
Morse shook his head. “These aren’t much different from the tunics we wore when we were offspring. Where are we going, Doyle?”
“The Factory.”
Morse nodded as if the destination made perfect sense. But then, Mina was sure Doyle was silently filling him in as they walked to the portal.
Feeling responsible for Alice, Mina walked with an arm around her.
“How come they can breathe?” Alice asked. Her voice was still weak, and Mina suspected that she was hiding the effort it took to remain standing.
Mina glanced at Doyle. Morse paused and looked from Doyle to Mina. A dawning look of comprehension crossed his face. “She knows?” he asked Doyle.
Doyle nodded.
“Of course she does, or why would she be here?” Morse asked. “Stupid Morse.”
And he laughed.
Mina got the impression that Morse was slightly unhinged. Alice shifted uncomfortably.
“Alice,” Mina said, taking matters into her own hands. “Doyle and Morse are not like other humans. I’ll explain everything later, after we get out of here.”
She glared at Doyle, hoping he would take the hint and keep his friend in control.
But Morse seemed to realize how odd he was acting and sobered.
“Don’t be scared,” he said to Alice. His eyes, before cold, were now warm and genuinely concerned. “It’s all a bit ironic, isn’t it?”
Then, he turned, and Doyle led them to the portal. Once again, the adarria glowed. The two hybrids stepped through first, and then Mina led Alice through. When they were halfway through the wall, the young woman tried to pull away, but Mina held tightly onto her shoulders.
They stumbled out into the tunnel.
“That’s new,” Morse said, gazing at the wall.
“Mina found it,” Doyle said. “The adarria speak to her, Morse.”
Morse’s gaze shot to Mina.
Mina was shocked. “That’s private!” she said.
“Morse is the last person we have to worry about.”
“What’re they talkin' about?” Alice asked. She still shivered even though the tunnel was warm. Her bare feet on the stone floor looked blue in the harsh light of Mina’s headlamp.
Realizing Alice had no reason to trust any of them and that she didn’t even know where they were, Mina turned to explain about the adarre.
“Wait,” Doyle said. He held up his hand for Mina to be silent.
She obeyed. As much as Doyle irritated her, she’d learned that when he said quiet, following instructions would most likely save her life.
He motioned them down the tunnel. Everyone silently followed. Mina stayed just behind and to the left of him. He may not have needed the lamplight, but she did.
After a while, Doyle relaxed, but he never explained his sudden silence.
That wasn’t anything new, she thought.
Lincoln woke with his face pressed to his keyboard. The plastic stuck to his skin, leaving square-shaped marks on his cheek. He rubbed it and looked around with bleary eyes. It wasn’t the first time he had fallen asleep at a keyboard, but he had never woken to such a strange sight.
The room was still filled with hybrids, pecking away at keys and analyzing data. The holograms lit the room. Occasionally, flashes of light peeked through the adarria above, creating an atmosphere that was not unlike a night-time Christmas light display.
Nelson still stared at his screen, still frowning. His eyes were glassy, unfocused. Alvarez was curled up on the floor near the wall, her head on her arm with a jacket pulled up over it. Carter was propped up with his chin on his desk, eyes closed, breathing deeply.
“When I was a kid,” Lincoln said to no one in particular, “I would have thought meeting aliens, working on a space station, and trying to save humanity was cool.”
“The reality is much more terrifying,” Nelson said without looking up.
“Anything interesting?”
“I don’t know yet.”
When Nelson didn’t say anything else, Lincoln left him alone. The guy was annoying, but he had moments of brilliance. Lincoln had learned to leave him alone until he was prepared to share that brilliance.
He rose, his stiff leg dragging a bit on the floor. Still groggy from his ill-timed nap, Lincoln hobbled over to sink down against the wall not far from Alvarez. Coffee would be nice. Or a donut. Or anything that looked human, for that matter. Grace walked around the workstation and came over to sit beside him.
She saw his cheek and smirked. “Nice nap?”
“I think it made me more tired. Any progress?”
“What kind of progress are you looking for?”
“Oh, you know, news of a monumental breakthrough. Or that you found a coffee maker.”
“No on both counts, but we are moving faster than I would have imagined. The catalog is growing. And Nelson is ruminating on something. He hasn’t looked up in hours.”
“Yeah, he gets that way. Maybe he’ll have a breakthrough of his own.”
“How do you imagine all this working? Piloting the station, I mean.”
Surprised, Lincoln looked over at her. “Well, the adarria control the Factory, correct?”
Grace nodded.
“And the main computers are now wired into the Factory systems and engines. If we can figure out the sequences the adarria use to manipulate them, we can bypass them and control everything ourselves. Essentially, the adarria are complicated and highly sophisticated computer code. At least, that’s what we’re telling the computer. If only it would allow all hybrids to communicate with it.”
“Well, it does to an extent. The reason Doyle can pilot the Factory on his own is that he can communicate with all the adarria at once, something no other hybrid has been able to do.”
“Why can’t you all band together and do it?”
Grace made a face. “In theory, it should work that way, but even hybrids have limits. Once so many get involved, lines get crossed, signals sent at the wrong time. It needs a centralized command. Which is exactly how it is supposed to work. The Condarri made it so only they could control the Factory.”
“And no one thought to use a supercomputer before now?”
“Well, we didn’t have any reason until a few days ago. All of this is as new to me as it is to you, Lincoln. Thanks to you and your team, we are lightyears ahead of where we would be without you.”
Lincoln highly doubted that, but he didn’t argue.
Something stirred in the air, and he looked around. But no one was close. The adarria had that effect sometimes, he guessed. He always felt like they were watching him.
Grace frowned.
“Problem?” he asked.
“Hey,” Nelson called. He nudged Carter, who woke with a start.
Lincoln climbed to his feet, tapping Alvarez as he did so. She woke less quickly, looking grouchy and disheveled. They all gathered around Nelson.
“What is it?” Grace asked.
“While you all have been toiling away, I have been investigating something.”
“Yes?” Lincoln asked, annoyed at Nelson’s attempt to lead them into whatever he was about to say.
“I spotted some anomalies early on, where snippets of code didn’t match up. Like the adarria were changing their minds about what they were saying without changing the symbols.”
Lincoln shrugged. “We are dealing with an alien race. Who knows how it thinks? Maybe its language is fluid.”
“At first, that’s what I thought
. But now I don’t believe so. The changes can be mapped.” Nelson pressed a few keys and pulled up a graph, a curve on a grid.
“Depending on the order of the request, the symbols change. If you look at it like this, you notice an underlying pattern emerges. And if you then cross-reference it with the new lexicon, you’ll see the adarria are always saying two things at the same time.”
“I thought we already knew that. And that it was more like a million things at the same time.”
“We did, but here’s the interesting part.” Nelson pulled up another chart. “Not only do the adarria control the light and the Factory, but they communicate with the aether on a level we didn’t expect.”
Nelson looked at Grace, who was staring at the screen and frowning.
“We knew they communicated with the aether,” she said.
“But did you know that they are asking the aether to set them free?”
Grace raised her eyebrows. “We were always told the adarria controlled the aether.”
“I think it’s the other way around.”
Grace crossed her arms and stared at Nelson. “But the adarria control the aether on this ship. They even set it free when Doyle asked them to.”
“Perhaps they have some sort of symbiotic relationship. What happens when the light shines through the adarria?”
“The adarria hold the light in. They trap it. So they control it. The same way they control the darkness of the aether.”
“What if the aether is using the adarria to restrain the light? What if they are the dominant power in this relationship?”
“I don’t know,” Grace said skeptically. “The aether is a powerful entity in its own right. It is the dark energy of the universe. And plentiful in certain parts. The Condarri used their mastery of the adarria to control the aether. Without the adarria, their overall power would be—”
Grace gaped.
“What?” Alvarez asked.
“I think we have it all wrong. Perhaps the aether creates the adarria? Which would explain how the hybrids were marked. How did we miss this?”
“What’s the significance here?” Carter asked.
“If we control the aether, then we control the adarria. Which means our lexicon is good, but it will not get at the root of our problem. If we were to somehow use the adarria against Condar—say, to control their ships from the Factory—the aether would come against us and wrench control back. We have to find a way to control the aether or our efforts will be futile.”
“We could still control the Factory?”
“Yes.”
“One thing,” Lincoln said quietly. “How is Doyle controlling the aether?”
Everyone looked at Lincoln.
Grace shook her head. “I don’t know. But maybe they recognize him as the commander too. Since he defeated a Condarri on his own, perhaps the adarria and aether see him as the superior being. That’s why they have been helping him.”
“So it doesn’t have anything to do with wrenching control from the Condarri. They just favor him?”
“Perhaps.”
“Great,” Lincoln breathed. “We need Doyle for everything because he is the key.”
“Yes.” Grace looked grim. “And he has set off on an incredibly stupid mission.”
Lincoln hated to ask, especially since Mina was with Doyle. The knot in his stomach grew so big he thought he would be sick. “What are the chances of him surviving there?”
“Not wonderful. But if the aether—” Grace paused mid-sentence, tilting her head to the side as if she were listening to something.
As one, all the hybrids in the training room paused what they were doing. And then they stood up. A few chairs clattered to the floor in their haste.
“What’s going on?” Nelson whispered.
Lincoln couldn’t explain the sudden fear that gripped him, but he knew that whatever had caused all the hybrids to go silent must be bad news. Had they been found?
He looked at Grace, who gazed back at him in horror. “The young Glyph is loose,” she said.
Chapter Sixteen
Once again, Doyle was on edge.
He sensed Calla even though she’d been silent. Ever since Doyle had seen her in the corridor, he expected her around every turn. Or coming out of any wall. Who could say whether the adarria would show her the tunnels or not? He didn’t dare assume he was the only one they were communicating with.
Mina was, obviously. Who else?
Since leaving his prison behind, Morse hadn’t said anything to Doyle. He pulled his gray tunic around him as if he were cold—the aftereffects of being in a suspended state. The air was stifling and warm.
A few hours later, Doyle had a real problem. Alice was showing signs of fatigue and dehydration. She leaned heavily on Mina, who wasn’t fairing well herself. If they removed their masks, Doyle was sure the poison air would cause more harm than food would do good.
He pushed on. If it came down to it, he’d leave Alice behind and come back for her. He wouldn’t have a choice, really. Leaving Mina was out of the question.
For a moment, Morse stopped his brooding to glance at Alice. When he saw how difficult walking was becoming, he stopped the group.
“Alice?” he asked tentatively, like he was speaking to a china-doll that might break with the sound of his voice. “Would you like me to carry you a while?”
Alice breathed heavily with the effort of just standing upright. She nodded wearily.
“Morse,” Doyle whispered, worried he couldn’t keep up.
“I’m strong enough to carry a little thing like her, Doyle. Don’t fuss over me.”
Mina let out a small laugh.
Doyle glared at her, and she shrugged.
“You’ve never asked if I was strong enough to keep up,” she said, amusement still shining in her eyes.
Morse smirked. “He’s feeling guilty.”
A flash of annoyance shot through Doyle, but he let the remark slide. Morse was right. Doyle felt guilty for abandoning his friend although he’d never admitted it to himself before now.
Morse picked Alice up like she was a child. She wrapped her arms around his neck and put her head on his shoulder.
And they plodded on. After having her burden lifted, Mina was better able to keep up, and they made decent time to the outer wall. Here, the adarria glowed, the light swirling through the grooves like it had been poured into them.
“Will she be waiting?” Mina asked quietly.
“It’s a real possibility.”
“Who will be waiting?” Morse asked.
“You haven’t felt her?”
“Felt who? I haven’t felt much of anything since we entered the tunnel. I think… I think my adarre were damaged.”
“You heard me,” Doyle said, thinking of when he’d spoken to Morse while he was lying unconscious on the floor.
“Yes. Barely.” Morse pulled Alice a little tighter to him. “Who have you felt, Doyle?”
He already knew. By his silence, Doyle had given her away. “Calla.”
“Why is she here?”
“I don’t know. We saw her just before entering the tunnels.”
“Did she come with you?” Morse growled. It was the first real sign of life he’d shown.
“No,” Doyle said. “We’ll explain everything later, but right now we have to get back to the Nomad. There’s a possibility she’s trying to find it.”
“Let her find it!” Morse said. Alice stirred in his arms, disturbed by his anger.
“But she’ll leave us here stranded!” Mina said.
“No, she won’t,” Morse said. “She’ll stay and fight. It’s all she knows how to do.”
“She has someone with her,” Doyle said. He was going to stop this idea of revenge right now. There would be time for Morse to get payback later. Right now, he needed to get Mina off of Condar. Suddenly, their errand seemed pointless. Other than finding Morse and Alice, they’d discovered nothing.
Unless that was
the reason the adarria had summoned Doyle.
Suddenly, he looked at Morse in a new light. Anger and hatred coursed through eyes that were growing brighter by the minute, even as his body grew weaker.
“We can’t fight her like this,” Doyle said.
“She deserves everything she gets,” Mina said.
Doyle turned to her. “We don’t have time for revenge right now! What do you think will happen? I can’t fight her and keep the three of you alive as well!”
Morse scoffed. “I can keep myself alive, thank you.”
“Not today, you can’t. Calla’s grown stronger since you last saw her. It would be suicide.”
“I would welcome it!” Morse shouted, shaking in anger.
Alice slid her hand down to Morse’s chest. “Please,” she whispered.
He looked down at her.
“Will you help me?”
Morse’s expression was mixed with fury and something else Doyle had never seen in it. But he didn’t argue any further and nodded to Doyle.
“I’ll go through first,” Doyle said, relieved, “check out the flight corridor, and then come back and get you.”
“Come right back,” Mina said.
Doyle paused just before touching the wall. “Yes, Mina. I thought I’d take a stroll up to the main hall, yell boo at the Condarri, and run back here, just for kicks.”
Morse looked confused.
Mina, however, gave Doyle a look of pure happiness. “Was that a joke?” she asked.
“Aww,” Doyle said in disgust and waved them away. Without waiting for another chance to be humiliated, he stepped through the wall.
He fell out the other side into the cold, dark corridor. Doyle jumped to his feet and crouched, ready to run or fight, depending on the situation. But the hall was quiet. He listened a long moment before jogging down the corridor. Careful to keep his feet quiet, he scouted out the few alcoves and doorways, making sure no one was there to surprise them. Just before he reached the hangar where the Nomad was docked, he ducked to the side of the door.
If Calla were on the other side, she would have a trap for them. But finding the Nomad would have been about luck as much as perseverance. There were thousands of hangars, spread out all around Condar.